Sir Gwaine and the Liberation of the Slaves of Merica
by Wilube
Summary: Whilst an innocent Guinevere has been wrongly exiled from Camelot, Sir Gwaine, receives a cry for help from a familiar Kingdom. The young Knight travels towards the slave ridden boarders of Mercia to encounter the horror in which awaits beyond the lands of Mercia. AU
1. Chapter 1

For two months the King had been ruthless in his training of his young Knights. His anger and frustration over his broken heart was locked away and only released in his brutal strikes in training. The King had been coming extremely close to severely injuring some of his worthy Knights.

That chilly winters morning, it seemed to be the tall and mighty Percival who was receiving the full blows of the King's built up temper. Sir Percival was one of the loudest of the Knights. Of course, compared to Sir Gwaine's amplified mouth, Percival was comparable to that of a mouse. However, Percival had an awful habit of speaking at the wrong place at the wrong time. It had landed him in trouble before. Only four months into his Knighthood did Percival manage to accidently insult Audrey the head chef in the castle kitchens, resulting in receiving over boiled cabbage leaves inside of his newly polished boots every morning for a month.

_SMASH, CLANG_

"C'mon Elyan!" Coaxed Percival heartily, "You're fighting like a girl!" Percival swung his sword low, narrowly missing Elyan's knee cap.

"Oh _I'm _fighting like a girl am I?" Chuckled Elyan, efficiently ducking Percival's consistent blows. "I saw you last new moon with one of Audrey's new kitchen maids! I've seen lovers before, but _you_ looked like you were suffocating her with your mouth!"

Percival blushed deeply before sniggering, "Ah my friend! I never thought of you as a peeper!"

Elyan forcibly blocked Percival's next swipe at his arm, "I am not!" He cried, landing on his backside onto the hard frosted ground. The sun had not yet risen fully, to claim the wintery frost covering the ground, so Elyan's fall was not a cushioned landing. He grunted in pain.

"Come my friend," Percival smiled, holding out his hand to his fellow night, "I have seen Guinevere, fight better than that of yourself this morning," Percival chuckled, but then quickly stopped himself.

All of the Knights had fallen silent, all exchanging vigorous eye contact and glancing sceptically at the King, who's face had now visibly paled.

All of a sudden, King Arthur's voice wrung loud and clear throughout the training ground.

"_Why_ have we stopped training?" Arthur spoke coldly, making his way over to Percival and Elyan. He stood between the two Knights, arms folded, his face even. "Pick up your swords," He demanded.

Elyan and Percival exchanged hesitant glances.

"I said pick them up!" Arthur boomed. "Do you defy your king?" He shouted, eyes wild.

"Arthur," Came a small, but firm voice from behind the trio. "Please...They've done nothing!"

"Shut up Merlin," Arthur coldly dismissed his manservant.

"But Sire-" Merlin started.

"I said _shut up _Merlin!" Arthur roared at the lanky servant stood before him with pleading eyes. He began to walk to the centre of the training ground, eyeing each and every one of his Knights individually, glaring at them. "If any of you," The King started, thrusting his sword into the hardened ground. "If any of you _dare_ to mention Guinevere's name, in training, around the castle, or at all for that matter," Arthur glared into Percival's dark blue eyes menacingly, "You will join her in exile forever,"

"Hey hold on a second here _Princess_," Spoke the brave Sir Gwaine, walking into the centre of the training ground towards his King, "Don't you think that's a little harsh considering-"

"Considering _what_ exactly _Sir Gwaine_?" Snapped Arthur, rounding on the handsome Knight. "Do you defy your King, Gwaine?"

Sir Gwaine, startled by the coldness in the just King's eyes started, "I just think-"

"Then I suggest for starters, you address your King in the correct formality Sir Knight," Snapped Arthur.

Gwaine scoffed loudly, then took a low bow, "Of course," He drawled, "_Your Highness,_"

"Good," Arthur spoke loudly, addressing all of his Knights, "Now, re-group. Elyan with Leon, Vidor with Caridoc, Brennis with Cador, Geraint with Owain."

The Knights, bustled around the training ground, finding their new partners and began their single combat.

Percival arched his back, stretching, and headed over to Merlin, who was handing him a tankard of water, which he accepted gratefully, downing its contents. "Thanks Merlin," Muttered the Knight.

"S'alright," Smiled Merlin kindly. "Guess he's just... still upset,"

"Tell me about it," Groaned Percival, "Trainings becoming worse by the day." He sighed. "It's been two months since she left Merlin, we all feel so helpless. We don't know what to do,"

Merlin cocked his head to the side, looking at his King, who seemed to be angrily prodding at Sir Brennis' shoulder, "It's tough. The heart is fragile, "

"Yeah," Percival agreed, "Not easily mended by a tankard of mead and a goodnights rest I guess,"

Merlin sniggered, "Well, he's had quite a few tankards judging by the size of his-"

"_Merlin_!" Arthur shouted from across the training ground, "Why are you just standing there?! Make yourself useful for once and fetch the jousting sticks! You're about as useful as you are good looking Merlin!"

"Well," Chirped Merlin, "Have fun with that, Percival," He clapped Percival on the shoulder and made his way towards the jousting shed at light jog,

"Sire," Percival addressed the King politely, not wanting to upset him after his previous slip up about the Kings former lover.

"Defence!" Yelled the King, making a sudden swipe at Percival's waist line.

Percival quickly blocked the attack, and began what was likely to be an unpleasant, long, three hour training session with his angry King.

* * *

_Later that evening_

"It's getting ridiculous!" Exclaimed a disgruntled Sir Gwaine, who was pacing up and down Percival's bed chambers, "Look at the state of you Percival!" Gwaine eyed his muscular friend up and down.

Bruises and cuts showered Percival who was now hunched over on his bed grunting, while a weary Gaius dabbed various herbal ointments onto some of the slightly deeper cuts on Percival's exposed forearms.

"The King is upset," Gaius sighed, "All we can do is wait. Only time can heal wounds that as deep as Arthur's hearts,"

"Wise words Gaius," Said Percival quietly.

Gaius smiled at the Knight, "Indeed. But it's been a long day, and I suggest you some rest if you're to endure another day of this tomorrow,"

They all chuckled and retired eagerly to their chambers for slumber, each of the Knights almost dreading the next day of ruthless training.

* * *

The winter sun shone bright the next morning, piercing every dark shadow in the castle with it's warmth.

"Sire!" Shouted Merlin, who was sprinting down a brightly lit corridor after his King, "Arthur!" He skidded around the corner, and slipped, knocking both himself and the King to the floor.

"_Merlin!_" Exclaimed Arthur wildly, "What on earth are you doing you great buffoon! Get off me! You-You insolent little-"

"Ow! Arthur! If you'd just-" Merlin struggled, his legs were entwined with Arthur limbs and the two men both kicked at each other on the cobble stone floor.

"What are _doing_ Merlin? Let go of me you stupid-"

"Agh!" Merlin pushed himself off of the floor and looked down at Arthur who was staring up at the ceiling panting heavily. "Sorry Sire, if you'd just have stopped when I called you and not been such a clot pole I-,"

"_Clot pole?!_" Arthur huffed. "May I remind you-"

"Yes, Yes you're the King of Camelot who is deemed to be treated with the utmost respect and dressed in a perfect formality,"

"Quite right,"

Merlin held out a helping hand to Arthur which was instantly swatted away. Arthur stood up, brushing off his chainmail and glaring at his manservant looking put out.

Merlin put up his hand before Arthur could say anything, "Nope, before you go off on a tangent, there's a woman demanding an audience with you in the throne room,"

Arthur's now reddened face began to return to it's normal colour, intrigued by his manservant's proclamation he began to ask questions. "Who is she?" He asked, turning around and walking back to the throne room. "Where is she from? What does she want?" He scratched his forehead.

Merlin had to jog to keep up with Arthurs fast pace. "She's says she's from Mercia." Merlin huffed, still out of breath from chasing his King half way around the castle.

"Mercia?" Arthur frowned. "Agravaine believes we should not trust Bayard, he believes he works with Odin to steal Camelot's wealth."

"This woman, she's not of nobility Arthur, she seeks your help," Merlin replied earnestly as he pushed the door to the throne room open.

In the centre of the room, a woman with coarsened dark chestnut hair and a pug nose, knelt before him. She was filthy.

Taking a seat on the throne, Arthur regarded the woman. She wore a pale soiled tunic similar to that of Guinevere's the night he had proposed and-

Arthur stopped his train of thought, not wanting to dwell on painful memories of his former love. He focused on the subject before him; "You sought out an audience with me?" He addressed the woman.

"M-My Lord," The woman's voice quavered. "I seek your help, I come in peace, my name is Ysmay," She began to sob. "M-My village i-it was attacked!"

Arthur rushed to her side, "It's alright, you're safe now," He comforted her softly, kneeling before her. "Whom of which Kingdom attacked your village ?"

Ysmay swallowed thickly, "None my Lord, outlaws. Slave traders, they've been roaming Mercia's boarders for months, they take people, sell them on, some are kept, tortured for information my-my" She gasped, sobbing into Arthur's shoulder.

"It's alright Ysmay, we're going to help you," Arthur reassured her.

"My Lord," Agravaine spoke up, "May I input an opinion of sort?" He shuffled forwards looking eyeing Arthur and Ysmay.

"Of course uncle," Arthur smiled, "Your council is always highly regarded in my court, you know that,"

"Yes, Sire I do of course," Agravaine smiled, "Of course the slave traders are a pressing issue on Mercia. But it is on Mercia they are the issue on, not Camelot, my Lord."

Arthur looked reluctant, "My father signed a peace treaty with Mercia not two years ago uncle, we-"

"Yes Arthur, your _father_ did. Your father was a indeed a strong King, a good King, like yourself." Agravaine smiled slightly, "But that was _two years ago_ Arthur, and you as a young and, if you don't mind me saying my Lord, a vulnerable King should not dwell on the troubles of an old tyrants kingdom, like Bayard's Sire,"

"My King is _not _a tyrant my lord," Ysmay spoke up defensively. "King Bayard is a good man,"

"Then perhaps you could have gone to _him_ about the slave traders roaming your boarders?" Snapped Agravaine. "Instead of placing your burden unto Camelot!"

"Unlce! Please!" Exclaimed Arthur, "She's upset,"

"They took my daughter!" Ysmay cried, "My Alieda, she's all I have in the world," She began to sob into the kind King's chest, "Please, have mercy, I can't lose her,"

"Surely your daughter would have already been sold?" Agravaine questioned, looking sympathetically at the woman before him. "The Slave trade is a terrible business, one that in which eradication seems to be...futile,"

"No," Sir Gwaine stood forward, a stern expression washing across his face.

Agravaine nodded, giving Gwaine permission to speak. "Sir Knight?"

"There is a place, on the outskirts of Mercia, a no mans land if you like," Gwaine addressed Arthur, "In it lies a castle of sort,"

Agravaine frowned, rubbing his stubble, "Of sort?"

"It's a prison, my lord. It's where they take the new slaves," Gwaine said solemnly.

"And tell me, _brave _Sir Gwaine," Smirked Agravaine, "How would you know of such a place?"

Gwaine smiled at Agravaine, "I once knew a girl,"

"No surprise there," Muttered Arthur, helping Ysmay to her feet, who in return smiled gratefully.

"We were, well...We were romantically involved, courting if you like," Gwaine scratched his head, looking away from the others.

Arthur sighed, "Again, no surprise there,"

"She was taken as a slave," Gwaine stated.

Arthurs face dropped, "I-I am truly sorry my friend," He lay a hand on Gwaine's shoulder.

"S'alright Princess," Gwaine smirked before continuing, "I followed the traders, tried to rescue her...I was too late."

The Knights of the round table were truly shocked to hear the genuine sorrowed emotion in the usually so brave and cocky young Knight's voice.

"I saw what it was like in there, what they do to people. How they get them to..._cooperate_..." Gwaine paled. "Some they question their backgrounds, if of nobility they arrange ransoms if servants of Kingdoms they try to extract information. Some of the women, are forced into becoming mistresses, prostitutes, they're sold to brothels, nobleman and so on. The men, are usually shipped from Anglia to Ulaid. It's a disgusting trade. Inhuman," He finished solemnly.

"We must go there," Arthur spoke up, "Put a stop once and for all to this disgusting trade,"

"We cannot my Lord," Agravaine, intervened. "The Princess of Nemeth will be arriving in a matter of weeks,"

"We can postpone it!" Arthur spoke up.

"We cannot postpone it Arthur," Agravaine snapped, "My Lord, it will make you look indecisive, you could be conveyed across to the other Kingdoms as _weak_ Sire. Besides, Mercia and Escetir will not grant you safe passage through their lands with armed men."

"Then I must go alone," Arthur stated.

Agravaine's nostrils flared wildly, "_My Lord-"_

"I'll go,"

Everyone's heads turned to look to Gwaine.

"I failed once before. I will not fail again. Please Sire," Gwaine turned to look at Arthur, "Your uncles right, you must stay here and you'll never get through Mercia and Escetir with the patrol. I can take a couple of men and go undercover. I have a duty to repay my lord,"

"You are most humble my friend," Arthur smiled and patted Gwaine's shoulder lightly. "But I fear, you cannot destroy the slave base with just a couple of men,"

"You're right Arthur," Agravaine nodded in agreement, "It would be near impossible, you are brave Sir Knight, there is no doubt your persistence would be futile,"

"I shall not be alone my Lord," Gwaine grinned, "For you forget I was not always a Knight. I travelled across many lands in my time, and I have strong connections in both Escatir and Mercia. Please Sire, I will not fail you,"

Arthur frowned for moment before nodding, "Very well. You ride at dawn." Arthur turned to Ysmay, "You are welcome to stay here in Camelot, I can offer you a place as a handmaiden, or in the Kitchens...Whatever your preference."

"Thank you my Lord," Ysmay smiled gratefully, "But if Sir Gwaine is successful, I should like to return home, be back in Mercia to greet my daughter,"

"Of course," Arthur smiled. "I wish you the best of luck Gwaine," Giving Gwaine a loose side hug, he dismissed the court.

* * *

"Gwaine!"

"Merlin?" Gwaine grinned at the King's manservant, jogging over towards him. "You alright there?"

"Let me come with you," Merlin pressed.

"Your place is with Arthur, Merlin. Besides, I'm glad to be rid of the Princess and his temper tantrums," He grinned.

Merlin chuckled but looked into Gwaine's eyes in all seriousness, "Look out for her Gwaine,"

Gwaine did not have to ask who Merlin meant. Merlin missed his friend. They all missed her. Guinevere had been gone two long months now and was missed dearly. Her sweet words of kindness and wisdom towards everyone, her soothing presence, her good sense of humour among the Knights were lacking in Camelot. She was thoroughly missed by them all, Arthur especially, although he would dismiss it.

"Always Merlin," Gwaine looked down to ground, "I just wish I could bring her home,"

"As long as she's safe," Merlin sighed sadly. He had no idea where his friend was. He missed her. He understood Arthur's punishment, but did not support it.

"He still loves her you know. It won't be the end for them, I know it won't," Gwaine smiled, he turned and waved at Ysmay who was walking towards the pair smiling as she mounted her horse.

"I know." Said Merlin quietly.

Gwaine mounted his horse and sat tall. He was dressed, not in his red cloak branding the Camelot crest, but in an old shirt and trousers, his boots worn, but polished. "Look after the Princess alright?"

"I always do," Merlin chucked.

Gwaine smirked before turning to his companions, two men from the Kings guard and Ysmay. "Ready?"

They nodded, and the small party galloped out of the gates of Camelot and headed into the dark forests.


	2. Chapter 2

_"I don't want to see you dead Guinevere... But I don't want to see you..." Arthur said, turning away from the adulterous lover, before him. _

_Guinevere vanished from thin air, her piercing scream filling his ears, haunting him. _

_"No!" Arthur cried, reaching out for thin air, "Guinevere! I didn't mean," He fell to his knees "I'm sorry," He whimpered, "Come back, please come back," _

_All of a sudden his wish was granted. Guinevere appeared before him. But something was not quite right, her face was too pale, her eyes were not bright enough and she was kneeling on the ground. He eyed his love up and down and noticed the blood seeping from her abdomen staining her lilac dress. _

_"A-Arthur-" She whimpered, crashing to the ground with a sickening crunch as she landed upon the hard flagstone. _

_Rushing towards her, he threw his arms around her, cradling her in his arms like a newborn child, in a desperate attempt to stop the blood seeping from her abdomen. _

_"A-Arthur I'm sorry," She croaked, mournfully staring up into his deep blue eyes._

_"No-No Guinevere, don't let go," Coaxed Arthur, shaking Guinevere violently. "You can't leave me!" _

_"You did this to me," She whispered, "I-It was your sword that-" Her head lolled onto his chest as she drew her last breath._

_Arthur glanced to his left, a bloody sword lay forgotten on the floor. His bloody sword. "I? Could I?" He whispered gently brushing the curls out of Guinevere's tear stained face. "What have I done?" He roared brokenly._

_"It was your fault," Came a familiar voice from behind him._

_"Lancelot," Spat Arthur, lowering Guinevere's body gently to the floor._

_"You killed her!" Screamed Lancelot, running at him with a sword. But the Knight did not strike, "Murderer," He whispered._

_"No, I would never...I could never," Arthur Stuttered, tears pouring out of his eyes. He felt weak. _

_Lancelot bent down beside Guinevere and shook her, before whispering tenderly, "Guinevere wake up," _

_She did not wake._

_"Guinevere wake up!" Said Lancelot, his voice rising, shaking her all the more vigorously. "GUINEVERE!" Shouted Lancelot, "WAKE UP," He cried._

"Wake up!"

"_WAKE UP!"_

"Oi _Clotpole_!"

Arthur was shaking, a thin sheet of sweat blanketing his muscular body.

"Arthur!"

Arthur sat bolt upright, shivering from head to toe, grasping the sheets with all his might as thick tears propelled themselves unwilling from his under his eyelids.

"Arthur?" Asked Merlin, placing a friendly hand upon Arthurs damp shoulder, "Sire, are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine, Guinevere she-" Arthur stumbled on his words, confused with his surroundings.

Merlin grimaced and looked pitifully upon the shaken King, "It's understandable Sire, I know you must-"

"Shut up Merlin," Arthur replied monotonically. "It was nothing I-I am fine,"

Merlin sighed at his King's denial, and began to bustle around Arthur's chambers, "It's okay to miss her you know," Merlin began, "I know I do and-"

"Merlin,"

"-Gaius does, and the Knights do too, it's weird not having her around, not a good type of weird though a bad kind, you know the kind of weird when you forget to put your socks on but put your boots on first and it's all cold, well a bit more dramatic than that. But I know you miss her the most Sire, she was a good woman, _is _a good woman and in time you'll see that-" Merlin babbled.

"MERLIN!" Roared Arthur, fuming with anger at the way his manservant spoke so freely of his former betrothed.

Merlin stopped abruptly, before turning to look at his friend, "Sire?" He squeaked.

Arthur stood up and stormed over to the window where Merlin stood, cowering slightly, "If you _ever_ mention her name," Arthur spoke dangerously, "So help me Merlin I'll have you banished, faster than you can you can say-"

"I didn't say her name," Merlin blurted out defensively.

Arthur turned his back on his servant, "She's gone Merlin." Arthur spoke, "It was my decision, and I stand by it. She betrayed me, I do not, I _cannot_ love her anymore," He pulled his shirt over his head and made his way towards the door.

"If you don't love her, why do you still cry her name in your sleep?" Merlin regretted the words before they had even come out of his mouth.

Arthur glared at him, before grabbing a shield off of the wall beside him and thrusting it at Merlin's head. He stormed out into the corridor, his thoughts red from Merlin's honest words. He knew Merlin was right, that was what angered him so. How could a _servant_ know the King's mind better than the King himself? Then again, it was after all, a servant that captured the King's heart in the beginning. Making his way through the open doors of the great hall, he nodded briefly at his uncle, before pulling up a chair at the head of the long oak table.

"Arthur," Agravaine beamed, "There's been word from the Kingdom of Nemeth,"

Arthur aggressively cut up the cheese and bread on his plate and taking an angry bite out of the small, ripe apple in front of him. He grunted. He was not in the mood to discuss duty or Nemeth with his uncle.

"Is everything alright your Highness, you seem a little-if you don't mind me saying- _on edge_, my Lord," Agravaine pressed.

"Everything is fine uncle," Arthur replied curtly.

"Good, good," Agravaine smiled, although his smile did not quite reach his eyes. "I thought perhaps you would have been in a slightly more..._positive _mood this morning, considering yesterdays news about Sir Gwaine almost reaching the boarders of Mercia,"

"Of course uncle, though Gwaine has not yet liberated the slaves yet, has he?" Arthur was cutting into his bread so violently that his knife had began to saw away at the table, "When he has put a stop to vile trade, it is only then, we shall celebrate, uncle,"

"But of course my Lord," Agravaine nodded politely, "Are you _sure_ there is not, anything troubling you Arthur?"

"Everything's fine uncle," Arthur looked into his uncles eyes, "Just the usual, Kingly duties and so on," He trailed off.

Agravaine, stood up and walked over to where Arthur was seated. He drew out a chair next to the troubled King, "My Lord," He hissed softly in the King's ear, "Let me _share_ your burden. Nothing would put my mind at ease as much as knowing that you are not feeling _overwhelmed_ with your duties Sire."

Arthur looked at his uncle and smiled, glad of the fact that he had his uncles wise counselling beside him. He placed a hand atop of Agravaine's, "Thank you, Agravaine. Not only have you been a wise councillor to me over these past few months, but you've been a good friend uncle. You have proved your loyalty in many ways. Thank you."

The corners of Agravaine's mouth twitched upwards slightly, "Thank you Arthur. You will be a great King." He pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket, and handed it to Arthur. "We have received word from the Princess of Nemeth, about the dispute of the lands of Gedref," He handed Arthur the letter.

"Leave me uncle," Said Arthur, taking the letter out from his uncles grasp.

Agravaine made to go.

"Oh, and Agravaine?"

"Yes, Sire?" Agravaine smiled.

"Thank you, again,"

Agravaine left the hall, leaving Arthur to read the letter from the Princess. Arthur had known for some time that the dispute of the lands of Gedref must be decided due to the fact they were wedged in between the borders of Camelot and Nemeth. Uther Pendragon had strongly believed that Gedref were of Camelot's property, but King Rodor had disagreed, saying that half of Gedref was in Nemeth territory. Arthur had invited Princess Mithian some time ago to Camelot, in a bold attempt to dispute the land. He tore open Nemeth's royal wax seal binding the letter.

_Dear King Arthur,_

_I was most delighted on receiving your invitation to Camelot. I have never set a foot in your land before and it excites me greatly that I may so soon be able to do so._

_However, I write to you in the utmost, sincerest, gratitude for nothing would please me more so to settle this ugly dispute over the lands of Gedref between Camelot and Nemeth. My father has made a suggestion, a political way to settle the dispute of the lands. The only way the lands can be evenly divided is if we form a strong bond between our two Kingdoms, through marriage._

_Forgive me for speaking so boldly, but I believe that this is the right way to address the issue of the dispute. After all, it is our duty is it not, to form a strong alliance with neighbouring Kingdom through the strongest bond of them all?_

_I shall await your reply with patience and excitement._

_Sincerest Regards,_

_Princess Mithian of Nemeth._

Marriage? Princess Mithian wanted to _marry _him? He couldn't...Could he? He would need to think about this carefully. But then again, why not? After all, the Princess had said herself, it was his duty as King, and he must fulfil it. But then there was...No. There was no longer _her_, _she_ had gone, _she_ had betrayed_ him_. Arthur needed to make this decision for himself. He did not want his uncle telling him to think through his actions, he did not his Knights' judgemental glances, especially that of Elyan's, and he certainly did not want Merlin's snarky opinion no matter how right it may be. No, the King would make this decision for himself. He would marry the Princess of Nemeth. Besides, he would rather not rule at all if he had to rule alone. Arthur Pendragon, picked up his quill, dipped it in the nearest ink pit, and began furiously scribbling his eager reply.

* * *

_DRIP...DRIP_...Sir Gwaine's eyelids fluttered open. It was raining. Again. The weather that week had seemed to take a turn for the worst. The smell of the damp earth infiltrated his senses as he slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position. Scanning the forest for any signs of danger, he stretched and yawned loudly, catching the attention of the two young soldiers he had brought with him, Merek; a young lad Sir Percival had taken under his wing, having proven his loyalty to the Knight during Morgana's first invasion, and Borin, a nephew of Queen Annis, who was a Knight in training.

"Sir Gwaine," Merek spoke boldly, although young, he was a high spirited fellow. His hair was long and fair, highlighting his high cheek bones. He was tall, but a little more on the lanky side. "Are we to cut through Escetir to get to Mercia?"

"It's too dangerous isn't it?!" Replied Borin. Borin, although shorter than Merek, was muscular, and had grown into his features more than Merek had. He wore a smug grin most of the time, but was kind hearted, and ate well. "Escetir is Cenred's old lands. You'd be a fool not to know that Escetir is no ally of Camelot."

"We'll go through the middle," Said Gwaine simply. "The safest route would be to follow the river that separates Escetir and Mercia."

Ysmay, who had been washing some of the tin pots in the stream nearby walked back up the bank to the small camp the party had made. "Whatever route we take will be dangerous, Escetir patrol are not merciful, they do not like trespassers, and as for Mercia, their borders are riddled with slave traders,"

"Ysmay's right," Said Gwaine, taking a swig of water out of his cow skin pouch, "But if we don't get going soon, we'll be another day behind from reaching our destination,"

Ysmay smiled at Gwaine. He had been kind to her over the last few days, she was grateful what he'd volunteered to do for her.

The party quickly packed away their camp, and stamped out their fire.

"We should cover our tracks," Said Borin seriously. "We wouldn't want any unwanted traders following us,"

Merek and Gwaine began throwing leaves over where they had slept, demolishing all evidence that the party had ever been there. They set off at a brisk canter, and reached the border of both Escetir and Mercia by midday.

"This river," Sir Gwaine pointed at the opening in the river where the two streams lapped into one, "Marks the border of both Mercia and Escetir. We stay on the left side of the river, the Mercian side. Bayard is more trusted than King Lot. It is a well known fact that Lot dislikes strangers, known to cut of the heads of his enemies and hang them on the wall,"

Merek grimaced.

They began to ride down the Mercian side of the bank, Merek and Borin riding side by side behind Sir Gwaine and Ysmay.

"I appreciate it you know," Spoke Ysmay, her voice bursting with gratitude, "You know, helping me, you didn't have to,"

"Well, damsels in distress, they're kinda my thing," Gwaine laughed.

Ysmay chuckled, "I'm hardly a damsel, I'm much too old,"

"Nonsense!" Cried Gwaine heartily. "Anyway, it was my pleasure,"

"You mentioned a girl in Mercia in court," Ysmay started tentatively, "What was her name?"

"It's hard to explain,"

"Hard to remember a name?" Ysmay pressed, tucking a chestnut lock of hair behind her ear, "My, my, Sir Knight you must be quite the ladies man," She blushed slightly.

"I-It's complicated to say the least," Gwaine chuckled. "I told Arthur, in court that the lady and I were...Courting as such."

"And that was not so much the case Sir Knight?"

"Not exactly," Gwaine muttered darkly, coaxing his horse forward as it spooked at an overhanging branch.

"Do go on,"

"She was my brothers wife," Said Gwaine flatly.

Ysmay gasped. "I-I'm sorry, I was just not expecting-,"

"It's alright." Gwaine said smiling slightly, "It's why I don't often tell the story,"

"Don't let me stop you, Sir Knight, please tell it," Ysmay encouraged the Knight.

"I was born of noble blood you see. But I never really got on with my family. My brother was betrothed to a niece of Caerleon, as he was the oldest, he got first pick," Gwaine laughed bitterly, "I hate nobles."

"Don't we all," Ysmay offered, more to herself than to Gwaine.

"I fell in love with my brothers betrothed Ellyn, and she did I." Gwaine looked forward, his face neutral. "But we both knew it could not be. Ellyn and my brother married on the summer solstice that year. Our love was true and we continued to see each other behind my brothers back. It was wrong though, and we both knew it. The moral in our family was always that family comes first. So when my brother found out, he sold Ellyn to a slave trader, _filthy pig_. We almost killed each other, my brother and I. Of course I went after Ellyn, I travelled to the tower of Macipium, which is where the slaves are kept that's the name of the prison, if you like, where we're heading now. I was too late. She did not survive the journey, dead before I could reach her," Gwaine finished solemnly.

"I'm sorry," Ysmay spoke quietly, "What of your family?"

"My father died fighting for Caerleon, leaving my family penniless." Gwaine scoffed angrily, "The King did _nothing_,"

"That must have hurt terribly," Whispered Ysmay quietly, "How did you end up as a Knight of Camelot?"

"Ah y'know, bit of dabbling here and a few quests there." Gwaine said brightly.

Ysmay laughed, "Sounds rough,"

"Life _is_ rough,"

"Sir Gwaine!" Came the voice of Merek behind them, "Perhaps we should stop for a rest by those rocks up there, the horses are beginning to tire,"

"Tired already Merek?" Smirked Gwaine, glancing behind at the two adolescents riding at his rear. "Forgot you were a _wimp_,"

"Sir-" Merek started, embarrassed, "I merely thought of the-"

"Yes, we'll stop there. I fear you may be right, the horses are beginning to look weary." Said the Knight, as he approached the rocky terrain.

The party dismounted, and lead their horses to the rocky bank of the river, each refilling their water, and washing down the horses legs.

Sir Gwaine walked along the shore of the river, hopping over rocks, as a playful child would until something caught the Knights eye. It was reflecting the sun light into his eye, blinding him. Gwaine bent down and examined the shiny object. It appeared to be a woman's hair slide, in the shape of a setting sun. Gwaine frowned, he recognised it. Not even a second later did he notice the curly, dark hair tangled at the back of the clip. He would recognise that hair anywhere. The Knight put two and two together.

"_Guinevere,_" He whispered, placing the slide between his lips and sniffing it. He then studied the hair slide closely. Yes, it was definitely Guinevere's, he'd seen her wearing it around the castle. To his horror, he noticed the dried blood encrusted onto the hair slide. Whatever had happened here had not been pleasant. It was evident that the hair slide had been forced from it's owners head. In this case Guinevere's. The Knight began to search for other evidence. The blood on the slide was old. Guinevere could be anywhere now. A million questions rushed through his head. Where was she? Was she safe? Was she even alive? Should he send word to Arthur? To Elyan? To Merlin even?

As desperate as the Knight was to search the whole of the five Kingdoms just to make sure his friend was safe, he had a mission to complete. Besides, there were no tracks, the hair slide could have been washed down stream for all he knew. Pressing the hair clip once again to his lips he whispered, "Please be safe Guinevere, _our future Queen_,"


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear King Arthur,_

_I was most pleased with your eager response to my letter. I am most glad that you too believe that our marriage shall be the best, diplomatic way to settle the dispute of the lands of Gedref._

_I have been told by many travellers from afar of your brave heroisms, they say you possess the noblest of Knights in all of the five Kingdoms. Although, I suppose that must be due to your marvellous training. _

_I look forward to meeting you Arthur Pendragon and hope the rumours about your handsome features are as true as your mighty swordsmanship skills._

_I also hope you are as eager to meet me, as I you,_

_The most kindest regards,_

_Your Princess,_

_Mithian._

Arthur blushed deeply after reading the brief letter from the Royal Princess of Nemeth. She was to arrive in a few short weeks. Although Princess Mithian sounded most kind in her letters, Arthur couldn't help but wonder what she looked like. Of course, Arthur knew that looks were not everything, true beauty shone through the kindness of ones heart. But if he were to eventually elope with the Princess, surely he would have to be attracted to her at least a little? Arthur sighed. Perhaps he had made the wrong decision. Marrying Princess Mithian would be a decision he would never be able to withdraw from, so if were to perhaps forgive a certain someone..._No_ he would not forgive her. She had _betrayed_ him, she could never be his Queen, she _would_ never be his Queen. King Arthur would make Princess _Mithian_ his Queen, whether his subjects approved or not. A lingering thought crossed his mind.

_His father would approve of the marriage._

Arthur shifted uncomfortably at his desk and stared out into the dark night sky. Yes. Uther Pendragon would have approved of the marriage Arthur was soon to undertake. But Arthur was not like his father, he knew that. Would his father had approved if he had married Guinevere? Probably not. But did he care as such? He wondered what his father would think of Guinevere's betrayal. He probably would have said that he'd seen it coming all along, that he knew it could never have ended well. A Servant could never marry Royalty. Now not even Arthur would ever change that. Both Arthur and Guinevere had feared their relationship would never end well. But they were so _close_. They were but hours away from becoming legally joined in sickness and in health. It was devastating.

Why had she betrayed him? That question had swirled and lingered inside the King's mind for 2 and half months now. Did she love Lancelot? When he had exiled her, she confessed her love for himself, more honestly then she ever had done before. He didn't understand? Why had she been _overwhelmed_? Why had she felt _drawn to him_? Perhaps she found Lancelot more attractive than himself. Arthur studied his reflection on the empty silver platter after emptying the fruit which lay upon it onto his chamber floor. There were dark rings circling the King's eyes, his cheek bones were hollowed, like he hadn't slept properly for months. He fingered his blonde hair sheepishly, it had become coarse, where he had become lazy with grief to wash it. He wondered how often Lancelot washed his hair, whether Guinevere had run her hands through it...

Arthur slammed his fists down onto the table. This was getting ridiculous! Why was he so insecure about himself? He was the King! The truth was he had always been a little insecure about himself, from comparing himself to that of Lancelot, ever since they rescued Guinevere as a young maiden from Hengist he had always doubted his worthiness. It seemed so much simpler back then, he had never dreamt that he would come so close to marrying Morgana's handmaiden. But now it was over. Now he would marry the Princess, like a good King should. He would do his duty, to his Kingdom, to his father, his unlce...But not to himself.

_Tap Tap Tap _

"Come," Arthur called.

Merlin scurried into Arthur's chambers carrying a tankard of mead, and a jug of water on a silver platter, he smiled at Arthur before making his way over to Arthur's desk and nodding curtly, "Sire,"

"Thank you Merlin," Replied Arthur, shoving the letter from Princess Mithian into a draw, out of sight from his manservant.

"Will there be anything else Sire?" Asked Merlin, standing awkwardly before the King, hands in his pockets, staring at a particularly interesting crack in the tiled floor of Arthur's chambers.

"That'll be all for tonight, thank you Merlin," Arthur said flatly.

Merlin nodded, "Right...I'll just er...See you later then,"

Arthur frowned. "Right. Er goodnight Merlin," He dismissed his servant.

Merlin stayed stationary, staring at the King.

"I said _goodnight _Merlin," Arthur snapped at his manservant.

"Arthur-"

"_Get out_!"

"Right, goodnight Sire," Merlin walked briskly over to the door and let himself out.

As the young warlock walked with purpose back to his and Gaius' chambers' he thought about how much himself and the King's relationship had slowly deteriorated over the past months since Gwen had left. Merlin and Arthur used to have what Arthur used to like to 'horseplay' the friendly banter between the pair was what really made their friendship. Now that it was gone he was just Arthur's servant. Arthur had become aloof, always brooding and miserable. He would spend hours writing important documents in his chambers and although Merlin would never admit it to himself, he missed his friend. Merlin knew Arthur was distracting himself from thinking of Gwen. But Arthur wasn't the only one who missed Gwen. Merlin missed her too, he missed his both of his friends. Now that Arthur didn't talk to him much, Lancelot had died, and Gwaine was on a quest, the only people Merlin spoke to was Gaius, and as much as the warlock loved Gaius as a father figure, sometimes Merlin didn't want to hear Gaius ramble on about medical science. Tom Locket, the bakers son, had awful case of sweating sickness last week, and Gaius went on to Merlin about where the patient sweats, how a patient sweats, and even _why_ a patient sweats. Honestly, there's only so much talk about sweating sickness one can bear.

News had reached Camelot yester night that Sir Gwaine had finally reached Mercia, and was travelling at a fast pace towards the village of Misericors. Oh how Merlin wished he could have gone with Gwaine on his quest, he was _sick_ of being at the receiving end of a bad tempered King. The truth was, Merlin was bored. He hated doing chores for a volatile Arthur, he hated polishing Armour, and he _hated_ cleaning out Gaius' wretched leach tank. Which was what he was meant to have done...tonight.

The servant broke into a fast jog, towards the physicians chambers hoping that Gaius was still tending to the nasty case of chicken pox that had spread among the children of Camelot. Bursting through the door, he glanced around the chambers. Gaius was nowhere in sight. _Phew_. Merlin thought to himself.

"_Clenaic Sonray_" Muttered Merlin, his eyes flashing gold, as the leach tank began to clean itself.

Merlin lounged back in a chair at the table. It was not often he got a moment or two to himself. He was always chasing after Arthur, and if he wasn't chasing after Arthur he was running errands for Gaius, and if he wasn't running errands for Gaius, he was fulfilling his destiny. It was all very exhausting. Merlin leaned back in his chair, and soon enough, sleep took the young warlock.

* * *

Merek's backside was feeling rather sore. Sir Gwaine had had the small party riding from sunrise to sunset that day. Bu they had finally reached their destination. For just visible over the hill, was the small village of Misericors. Merek had never been to Mercia before, he had only once joined the Camelot patrol when venturing into Nemeth a couple of times. This was his first real adventure. But it hadn't quite lived up to expectations. From what the older knights had said, going on quests meant slaying dragons then washing down a conquest with a nice warm tankard of mead.

There were no dragons.

There was no mead.

Well, there was but Sir Gwaine was quite unwilling to share his stash of the sweet liquid heaven.

"When you're as old as I," The brave Sir Gwaine had said, slurring his words slightly by the small campfire the party had built. "You will too, realise that when on a long journey, you should never share your mead, or your ale, _or_ your cider, or any kind of drink that makes you feel as jolly as this does my friend, especially with little lanky soldiers like yourself, weedy boy,"

"I am _not_ weedy, Sir Knight," Merek protested, "I can assure you-"

"I'm sure you can," Gwaine brushed the Knight off casually.

"Gwaine!" Laughed Ysmay, "You are cruel to the poor boy." She turned and smiled at Merek. "Merek my dear fellow, I am sure that you are as strong as King Arthur is wise,"

"Not very then," Gwaine chuckled.

Ysmay looked slightly taken aback. "You speak ill of your King?"

"I'm only messin with ya!" Slurred Gwaine, "The Princess is a good King, a wise King. Even if he is a bit of a cabbage head sometimes," Gwaine smiled fondly.

Despite the lack of dragons, and mead, Merek was relatively happy with the company he was keeping on his very first quest, and held his head high as he rode in side by side with Borin into the small village of Misericors.

"You alright back there weedy boy?" Gwaine called to him over his shoulder.

"Fine thank you Sir," Merek called.

"We're here!" Ysmay rejoiced, demounting her horse and beckoning the others to do the same. "This way, brave soldiers, take refuge in my home for it is too late to visit Lord Doran, the ruler of area of Mercia tonight."

The brave Sir Gwaine and the two loyal soldiers followed Ysmay as she guided them through the village. Mercia was very different to Camelot, it was slightly breezier, chillier, with a hint of salt about the air. The houses, were built in a similar way to the architecture in Camelot. But the cloths hung out on the lines outside of the houses were much brighter and vibrant, exquisite fabrics for that of a poor village.

"Your village has wealth," Gwaine observed, running his fingers through a sheet of navy blue silk hung out on a line.

"Our village is close to the dock point, the trading point, the fine silks are not ours. The traders ask the seamstresses to make something of the exquisite fabrics, we make them, are paid very little, then they're passed on." Explained Ysmay. "In here," She beckoning the men inside of the little hut. "Here sit down, I'll grab some wood from outside,"

The four travellers slept like babies that night, all completely and utterly exhausted from their travels. Tomorrow they would seek help for their quest. Tomorrow, they would come another step closer to freeing the slaves of Merica.

* * *

"So you have come from Camelot have you not?" Boomed the tall man, towering above the brave Sir Gwaine.

"Yes my Lord," Replied Gwaine earnestly.

"I don't believe Camelot and Mercia are the strongest of allies anymore am I correct Sir Knight?" The man said loudly, his voice echoing off of the stone walls of the large manor house.

"Lord Doran," Sir Gwaine, lay his sword down at the taller mans feet. "I come in peace, in the name of a just cause," The humble Knight knelt before Lord Doran in earnest.

"A just cause Sir Knight?" Lord Doran laughed, "And what just cause might that be?" He asked, stroking his long grey beard. Lord Doran was a fair man, he believed in what was right, he was not greedy like some of the other nobles that watched over the villages of Merica he wanted what was best for the people. Having a Knight of Camelot, two soldiers and an old subject turn up on his doorstep in the late hours of the morning was quite a shock to the older man. He was most interested on what the small party had to say for themselves, but was still cautious.

"I know that the slave traders have been roaming your boarders for months, seizing your people. It is becoming a problem for a lot of the Kingdoms my Lord," Gwaine explained honestly.

"If it is such a problem Sir Knight, why not have the young King Arthur himself pay a visit to Bayard?" Laughed the Lord.

"Please my Lord, King Arthur is a busy man he does not have time for such-"

"Busy man?! He does not have time for his people? A good King makes his people his priority!" Spat Lord Doran. "That's the problem, with you young rulers, you're inexperienced, only care for yourselves, don't give a damn about-"

"Please my Lord!" Ysmay spoke up, "King Arthur is a fair and just King, as is Sir Gwaine here. There is no doubt he alone is the noblest of the Knights,"

"Hmf...Does Camelot dress all of their Knights in rags?" Snarled Lord Doran, gesturing to Gwaine's attire, "Where is your armour and your fine clothing? What kind of a Knight are you?"

Gwaine looked at Lord Doran carefully, "Nobility and honour do not come through blood, but through heart Lord Doran,"

Lord Doran grimaced, "Indeed, and tell me, Sir Gwanny?"

"Sir _Gwaine_," Ysmay helped.

"Tell me, Sir _Gwaine_, how do you intend to help me?" Asked Sir Doran, beginning to become more interested in Sir Gwaine's wise words. "I mean, there are only _four_ of you. What are you going to _do_ Sir Gwaine? Liberate the Slaves of Mercia, with two soldiers and a middle aged woman?" Laughed Lord Doran.

"Well..." Sir Gwaine stood up to face Lord Doran, "I wasn't _planning_ on doing that. Actually, I was hoping I'd be able to have a little help. Know anyone?" He winked.

Lord Doran frowned at Sir Gwaine, "You've got some nerve Sir Knight, and I don't know whether it foolish or wise,"

"The latter I believe," Chuckled Gwaine, "So will you help us?"

"I shall do what I can," Said Lord Doran, "But you'd need a whole army to break into the Tower of Mancipium, and that, I cannot offer you Sir Knight. Although your intentions are brave, I believe them to be...well futile,"

"Well I've heard that before," Grinned Gwaine, "Which makes it all the more fun!"

Lord Doran shook his head, "It's too dangerous, even for you, brave Knight,"

"If I could just see how the trade works, if we could infiltrate the system somehow...Get someone on the inside..." Gwaine trailed off looking over at Merek who was gazing out of the window.

Merek turned his head to meet Gwaine's eye, "What?" He frowned, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because, young weedy boy, _you _are going to be my slave," Smirked Gwaine, giving Merek a pat on the shoulder.

"What? That's insane! We want to _free_ the slaves of Mercia don't we? Not enslave more!" Cried Merek.

"You wanted an adventure," Smirked Gwaine,

"I wanted dragons!" Exclaimed Merek, "I didn't want well...I didn't want this!"

"I'd prefer a dragon any day to a slave trader from Mancipium," Muttered Lord Doran darkly. "They're vile men,"

Ysmay spoke up, "It's very dangerous Gwiane, you'd be putting Merek in a lot of danger, they're brutal to the slaves, you and I of the best of people know that, Gwaine,"

Gwaine sighed, "It's up to you Merek. Of course I won't force you into doing anything you don't want to-"

"NO!" Cried Merek suddenly, "I want to, I will. I'll prove my loyalty..."

"Your plan is brave, Sir Gwaine, but I fear it may not succeed, the traders know each other, there's no way you'd be able pass of as a trader, bringing just one slave," Lord Doran pointed sadly.

"Not unless he wanted to enrol," Said Ysmay quietly.

"What does that mean?" Asked Gwaine curiously.

"Well, you can apply to be a slave trader, they enrol them at the docks once a year, you must offer a slave as a sovereign, they have a chat with you, see if your worthy or something, then the new ones are sent off with the other traders to learn..." Ysmay explained. "You always know the new ones when you see them...They look so frightened," She whispered.

"Then it's settled," Smirked Gwaine, "Merek, we ride at dawn for the Tower of Mancipium,"

"Good luck Sir Knight," Lord Doris said quietly, "For I fear, you shall not return,"

_At first light the next day_

"Borin," Sir Gwaine, addressed the young soldier, "Look after Ysmay until we return, and send word to back to Camelot to let them know that we've reached our destination,"

"Yes Sir," Borin replied politely. "You will return, won't you Sir?"

"But of course young solider!" Smirked Gwaine, mounting his horse and grinning down at the adolescent. "I need _something_ to gloat about to the Knights of the Round Table when I return," With that, Sir Gwaine, winked at the boy, and coaxed his horse into the west, Merek cantering close behind.

* * *

As a child, Agravaine Du Bois was an honest boy. So honest that he felt compelled to tell tales on his sister Ygraine Du Bois, when she would accidently break any of the castle's finery, and receive a scolding. As Agravaine grew into an adolescent he became more secretive. He liked to hide his brother Tristan's armour and move his possessions around. When Tristan was unable to find his weaponry, Agravaine would watch his brothers distress from afar and chuckle sadistically to himself.

When his sister died in childbirth Agravaine was extremely distressed, he blamed Uther for his sisters death. When Tristan challenged Uther to a single combat duel to the death, Agravaine grew uncomfortable. As much as Agravaine despised him, Uther was a strong man. Agravaine was not, he feared his life could be in danger. He cowardly fled to Nemeth and lived a decadent lifestyle until he heard news of Uther's sickness. Agravaine began to write to his nephew, Arthur. Arthur was a lot of things, but he was not Uther. He travelled to Camelot, perhaps to steal some of its wealth for his own to avenge his beloved sisters death. But he was intercepted, by none other than the Lady Morgana herself. Morgana's hit men ambushed Agravaine. He woke up a few days later in hovel, and looming over him, was a beautiful woman, with long, dark ebony hair, and bright eyes.

He sat up talking with Morgana for four days and four nights, all the while she cared for him and healed his wounds. Agravaine discovered that perhaps he and Morgana had a lot more in common than he had thought. Their mutual hatred of the former King, their lust for power. Morgana would have made a wonderful Queen.

"You're not evil Morgana," He had whispered to her one night, "You fight for what is right, you would make a wonderful Queen, my Lady,"

Morgana stroked Agravaine's face gently, "You don't care I have magic?" She asked innocently.

"Magic should be used for greatness my Lady. It is cowardly to fear it," Agravaine stated.

"That is surprising, coming from you Agravaine, your sister died at the hand of magic..." Morgana eyed Agravaine from head to toe, smirking at him, desperate to get a reaction out of the slimy man.

"Ygraine...Yes, Uther used it wrongly...H-He was a coward he-" Agravaine's face began to redden with fury.

Morgana laughed cruelly. "And yet you're willing to see his son, Arthur, take the throne and continue Uther's reign?"

"Arthur, he is different is he not?" Agravaine asked slowly.

"Arthur is no different from Uther," Morgana spat. "Camelot's throne is rightfully mine...After all, I am Uther's _daughter_!"

Agravaine smiled sadly, and placed his atop of Morgana's, "I wish there was something I could do to help you my Lady..."

Morgana smirked cruelly, "There is,"

From that moment on, Lord Agravaine Du Bois had become Lady Morgana's loyal subject, her eyes and ears of Camelot. They were an unstoppable pair. So when Lord Agravaine snuck down to the forest in the middle of the night to the Lady Morgana's hovel he was quite surprised to find that the Lady Morgana had company.

"M-My Lady?" Agravaine knocked and poked his around the door of the small hovel in the woods.

"Agravaine," Morgana sang, "Enter, what news do you bring me?"

"N-None my Lady I-"

"None?! NONE?! Agravaine, if you're not bringing me news then spare me your presence, you _pathetic_ excuse for a spy!" Morgana spat.

"Morgana, please," Came a smooth voice from behind, "Be not so hard on him, perhaps he just wanted to say..._Hello_?" The man sniggered. He was a tall muscular man, with no hair, one might even go as far as to say he was good looking if he wasn't so intimidating. His skin was a that of a soft caramel colour, he had dark eyes, and tattoos smothering his forearms. "My name is Helios, the War Lord, you must be Morgana's inside man,"

Agravaine drew himself up to his full height, "Indeed I am, her most _loyal_ and _trustworthy_ servant at that."

Helios smirked, "Indeed, as much as I love a sweet little introduction, we have more pressing matters to get on with,"

Morgana turned to Helios, pressing her body flush against his, making Agravaine blush and take a step back. She rubbed her nose along Helios' jaw line, his hands automatically wrapping around her waist, "So...Can you help me?"

Helios sighed and untangled Morgana from himself, "I'm sorry my Lady. My army is not strong enough. There are too little of us to take over Camelot,"

Morgana shrieked. "You call yourself a War Lord, yet your army is the size of a small village!"

"I'm _sorry_ my Lady," Helios sighed, taking a seat at Morgana's table. "I do not possess enough recruits,"

"Why can't you _get_ more recruits?" Snapped Morgana irritably.

"It's not that _easy_," Replied Helios solemnly, "If I continue to attack local villages, the King starts to notice a growing army and becomes threatened. I'll be shut down!" Helios slammed his fist down onto the table to emphasize his point.

"We just need to find a large amount of people who people _don't_ care about; outlaws, slaves, criminals and so on..." Morgana muttered, running her hand through her tangled hair. She was getting sick of living in this hovel, and she was getting sick of people failing her.

Helios sat up abruptly, "You're right, people _like_ slaves!"

Morgana rolled her eyes, "Yes but _where_ are we going to find people like that?"

Agravaine spoke up from the corner, "Why not just _use_ slaves and outlaws?" He said grumpily, evidently bothered by the chemistry brewing between the Lady Morgana and the War Lord.

"That's not such a bad idea," Said Helios all of a sudden, "Think of it! Who's going to care if fifteen hundred slaves go missing?" He grinned a toothy grin.

Morgana sat up straight too now, listening intently, "Where can we find this many slaves in one place though? They're scattered everywhere?" She asked eagerly, trying to wrack her own brain.

"The Tower of Mancipium, Mercia," Said Helios quietly.

"Such a place really exists?" Piped up Morgana excitedly.

Helios smirked, "Indeed. It lies in no mans land between Escetir and Mercia, right on the boarders."

"We must go there at once!" Morgana matched Helios' smirk with a wider one, "Are you ready to liberate the slaves of Mercia?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Arthur,_

_I am beginning to find you are particularly humorous my Lord, I am sure your manservant is not quite as useless as you deem him to be._

_Our time apart now is short, and from your letters I look forward to becoming your wife and Queen. I know this shall only be a political marriage, however I look forward to building something beautiful and strong out of this arrangement that shall be recorded in history. _

_Unfortunately, one of our handmaidens has been snatched by a the slave trader Jarl, he has been roaming our boarders for months bringing the utmost grief upon the Kingdom. Word has reached Nemeth that you have sent one of your bravest Knights in an attempt to free the slaves of Mercia. One can only hope that he is successful._

_I await your reply most eagerly,_

_Your betrothed,_

_Mithian. _

There would have been a time when Arthur Pendragon, would be pleased to have received a letter from a Princess who was kind and noble, and not spoilt like most of the Princess's in the five Kingdoms. But no matter how much Arthur had tried to talk himself into this marriage, his heart would not rest, as it was stolen by a simple handmaiden, whom was now far away.

"Sire," Came the voice of a noble Knight.

"Sir Leon," Arthur looked up, briefly smiling at the loyal Knight. Sir Leon was a noble subject of Camelot, Arthur had known Leon since his teenage years, he was always a good and honest friend.

"The traitor, Sire," Sir Leon ran a hand through his sandy hair, "We must suspect everyone my Lord, we _must_ keep our eyes and ears open,"

"Of course, Sir Leon," Arthur stood up, walking over to the noble Knight and placing a hand on his shoulder, "And we shall, but you are forgetting, I have questioned a good half of Camelot, and I cannot bring myself to believe that any of them would betray me,"

"It's a delicate subject my Lord," Said Leon quietly, "Perhaps, we should approach it from a different angle Sire,"

"What do you suggest?"

"Please Sire, I do not want to speak out of term," Spoke Leon awkwardly.

Arthur frowned at the Knight, "Leon, you have always had my utmost respect. Please, speak freely,"

"Perhaps if we were not to take such a bold approach to the matter. Instead of questioning every subject in the Kingdom, why not take a few visits here and there to the lower town, keep our eyes and ears open in places like the market, and the tavern," Leon explained, most humbly.

Arthur rubbed at his sleep deprived eyes, "I fear that a traitor would not speak so freely in that of the market place,"

"Perhaps not, but if we were to go undercover into a place like the tavern, and keep our ears peeled for a few nights a week," Leon spoke boldly, "Forgive me my Lord, but after a few tankards of mead, men are all but dishonest in tavern."

Arthur nodded.

* * *

"Tell me again why we're doing this," Asked a disgruntled warlock as he was dragged along the back alley of the local tavern; The Rising Sun.

"If we are to suspect a traitor," The King explained, "We must keep our ears peeled everywhere _Merlin_,"

"But why the tavern?" Protested Merlin, as he jogged to keep up with his King.

"I thought you'd be _pleased_ Merlin, you spend enough time in there as it is," The King pointed, smirking at his manservant. "Slacking off your duties as usual."

The two men stepped inside The Rising Sun, quickly, keeping their hoods up, they sat themselves down at rickety bench opposite one another.

"Wha' can I be gettin' the two o ya this evenin'?" Came the voice of Evoric, the Inn Keeper.

"Two tankards of ale please," Muttered Merlin quietly.

"Alrighty!" Evoric boomed, his strong west country accent filling the warm air of the Inn.

"What are we even supposed to be _listening_ for?" Sighed Merlin, resting his chin upon the palms of his hands and staring at dirty stained table.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "We're just keeping our ears peeled Merlin. Anything suspicious. Not that _you'd_ know how to be discreet."

"Why do _we_ have to do it?" Exclaimed Merlin, exasperated. "Why couldn't you just have gotten one of the Knights to do it?"

"Tell me _Merlin_. Are you going to moan the entire evening like winey little _girl_?" Snapped Arthur, poking Merlin roughly in the ribs.

"I'm just saying-"

"Well _don't_ just say," Arthur snapped.

Evoric returned sloshing two tankards of warm ale onto the bench. "Ere's ya ale, enjoy fella's!"

Arthur and Merlin sat in the tavern for two hours, occasionally engaging in light conversation, usually resulting in Merlin getting lightly smacked over the back of the head for saying something Arthur deemed as 'indecent' or 'inappropriate'. The Tavern was loud. Rowdy men were arm wrestling, gambling and shouting drunkenly.

Merlin recognised one of men to be Sir Caridoc's nephew, Destrian. He was an arrogant soldier, probably around Arthur's age, he had still not yet passed his Knights test, even after attempting several times. Merlin recalled the first time Destrian had failed his test, he had taken his anger out on Merlin himself, thrusting a buckler into his face, leaving a nasty lump on Merlin's forehead for a good week and half, much to Arthur's amusement as he had been nicknamed 'egghead' for that week.

Destrian was now drawing a fair amount of attention in the local tavern that winters night. A small group of men surrounded him, laughing, but listening intently to what the arrogant man was saying.

"I mean, we all saw it coming," Destrian said loudly smirking, "She was _serving_ girl, and he's the King for goodness sake!"

The conversation caught Merlin's attention, and he listened intently, fearing Destrian was already crossing the extremely thin line which was not to be crossed at any circumstance, if anyone valued the quality of their life.

"Everyone probably had a go on the wench, she was attractive...If you're into whores!" Destrian laughed, speaking loudly, as the audience around him jeered and laughed in agreement. "I even saw her giving me the eye a couple of times! If that Sir Lancelot hadn't gotten in there first, I would have had my way with her! I'm sure of it!"

Merlin observed, as Arthur's fists clenched on the table, his knuckles as white as snow and he was shaking violently. "Arthur," Merlin warned quietly, never as his time as Arthur's servant seen Arthur so livid, not even when Merlin had spilt ale all over a speech that Arthur had spent all night to write. No. This was something quite different.

Destrian laughed cruelly, "Anyway, she got what she _deserved_, although, I myself would have had her _executed_. But one can only hope that she's probably lying face down dead, in a ditch somewhere!"

Arthur snapped, his tankard which he was holding shattered in his hand, causing the whole tavern to look towards the King and his manservant before returning to their activities.

"Arthur _no_," Said Merlin warningly, placing his hands firmly upon Arthur's forearms. "It's not worth it, let's just go,"

Arthur fumed, "I'm gonna kill him," He panted, struggling in Merlin's grip of steel. "Get off me, I'm gonna _kill_ him,"

"_Arthur_," Merlin warned through gritted teeth.

Arthur was shaking so violently that Merlin thought he was going to explode. Merlin roughly grabbed Arthur by the arm and half dragged him out of the tavern, not before leaving a couple of coins to pay for their drinks.

Outside of the tavern Arthur raged. "I should have _him_ executed! I-" Arthur began thrusting his fist into the wall behind him in fury and anguish.

"Arthur-" Began Merlin, "Destrian's an ass! He didn't know Gwen!"

Arthur spun around to face his friend, his eyes full of emotion, "Is this what everyone's saying behind my back Merlin? That I was a fool to trust her? That she Gwen was a ruined maid? That-"

"No!" Said Merlin passionately, "_Nobody_ thinks that!"

"Well clearly the men of the tavern do!" Shouted Arthur, giving the wall a few more punches until a sickening crunch was heard, "AGHH!" Arthur cried in pain, as some of the bones in his hand snapped. He sunk down against the wall Destrian's words still ringing loudly in his head.

_One can only hope that she's probably lying face down dead in a ditch somewhere..._

What if Destrian was right? It would be Arthur's fault. "What if he's right Merlin," Arthur said quietly, slumped against the cool stone wall. "What if she _is_ lying dead in a ditch somewhere?" His voice broke.

Merlin twitched horribly, "S-She's not!" He said these words more to himself than Arthur. "She's strong, she's okay, I know it,"

Arthur buried his face in his hands. He felt disgusted with himself. "I-I could never...I could never forgive myself in any harm comes to her...Merlin...What if? What if?"

"No!" Cried Merlin, crouching down next to his friend, "Don't even finish that sentence. Gwen's _fine_ okay?"

Arthur sat up before speaking quietly. "She had nowhere to go Merlin. Camelot was her home. I-I took it from her. Everything she'd built here she-"

"You didn't have a choice," Said Merlin quietly. As much as Merlin missed Gwen, he still could not understand why she had done it. Why _had_ Gwen kissed Lancelot? "You couldn't execute her..."

"Have I been a coward Merlin?" Asked Arthur quietly, "She may not have been executed at my hand, but have I sent her to her death?"

"Y-You gave her an opportunity to start again Arthur," Said Merlin distantly.

"I sent a lone woman out in the woods to fend for herself Merlin!" Arthur stood up, "I have been selfish."

"When we are hurting, we are all selfish, Sire," Said Merlin, getting to his feet and standing beside Arthur.

The pair began to make their way back to Arthur's chambers. As they approached the door Arthur turned to face Merlin before saying; "That will be all for tonight thank you Merlin,"

"But your hand Sire-" Began Merlin, pointing at the bloody mess which was the King's hand.

"I'll get Gaius to see to it the morning, for now, I want to rest," Arthur said quietly.

Merlin nodded, before turning on his feet and walking away from the King.

"Oh and Merlin!" Called Arthur down the corridor to his manservant.

"Yes Sire?"

"We shall not speak of this night to anyone, do you understand?" Arthur ordered.

"But Arthur-"

"_No_ Merlin. It is time to forget." Arthur added quietly. "We need to move on. This cannot go on forever Merlin. We must _forget_..." And with that the King slammed the door to his chambers shut leaving Merlin standing alone in the cold corridor.

* * *

They had been riding for two days and two nights towards the Tower of Mancipium and the two men were beginning to tire. Young Merek was beginning to miss his warm cot back in Camelot. The rain had poured horrendously and the wind attacked viciously, leaving pair cold, wet, and miserable.

"We must be almost there," Muttered Merek sullenly, "I-It's f-freezing," Merek looked down to his hands clutching tightly to his reins, which were now blue. He could not feel them.

"Come on weedy boy," Sighed Gwaine, urging his horse on. The pair had now approached a mass of heavy, thick fog, and were struggling to see their way through it.

"The terrain is so soggy!" Merek moaned to the Knight.

"That's because, we're in a _marsh_, young soldier," Gwaine, rolled his eyes. "Marshes _are_ soggy you fool!"

Both were beginning tire of the others company, each believing the sooner they reached the tower, the better. They came to halt, next to a bare dead tree.

"It's very atmospheric isn't it?" Muttered Merek, glancing around about the fog. It was beginning to clear.

"Look!" Said Gwaine, pointing ahead of them, "In the east! There it is!"

Merek followed the Knights finger, where he was pointing. Sure enough, was a large tower. The tower was huge, grey, square and sullen looking, it loomed over the two men ominously. Almost in pathetic fallacy, a clap of thunder made the soldiers jump and their horses rear, the rain poured down harder than ever. The tower was nearing, so they now were able to identify due to the fog slowly clearing, a cliff in which the tower was situated. The tower loomed dangerously over the edge of the cliff, and below it, giant waves smashed against the side, spraying the lower windows of the tower with salt water and rubble. The enormous grey building was built tactically out in the open. No slave, no matter how strong would be able to attempt to escape, they'd either be seen by the lookout, or they'd fall prisoner to the waves below.

Merek's lip trembled. "T-That's where they're kept...T-The Slaves." He was terrified.

"Yep," Gwaine laughed lowly, "Hasn't aged a day," He dismounted, adjusting the saddle of the horse, rummaging in his saddle bag. Finding what he was looking, for he pulled out a large length of rope. Gwaine walked over to Merek's horse, removing the horses metal bit, from it's mouth.

"What are you doing?" Asked Merek, clearly confused by the brave Knight continued to un-tack his horse.

"Slaves," Gwaine started, "Don't ride horses, they walk behind, tied up,"

"W-What?" Merek stuttered.

"You heard me," Said Gwaine, removing the horses bridle completely, "Dismount,"

Merek reluctantly slipped himself from the saddle, removing the horses saddle and placing it behind the dead tree, where Gwaine had placed the bridle. "What of the horse?" He asked, stroking the white mare's velvet nose. "Will she be alright?"

"She'll be found eventually, will probably end up as a Slave horse," Gwaine said sadly, giving the mare a pat.

Merek smiled sadly. "It's a shame, she was one of Camelot's finest."

"Alright, weedy boy, don't get too soft, it's just a horse!" Chuckled Gwaine, "Now give me your wrists, I'll bind them and you'll walk behind me,"

Merek shifted uncomfortably, as Gwaine tightly bound his wrists together in a tight knot. "Ouch!" He cried out in pain, as the ropes rubbed sharply at his cold damp skin like knives. "Couldn't you loosen it a little?"

Gwaine smiled, mounting his horse, "Well then it wouldn't be _realistic_ would it? You need to have some mark of mistreatment on you,"

Merek grumbled as they set off towards the tower.

Gwaine swerved his horse deliberately, causing Merek to topple over into a muddy puddle, soiling his clothes and scratching his face upon the stones imbedded in the wet marshes. Gwaine chuckled. "There we go! Now you really look the part!"

They set off at a brisk walk towards the tower, Gwaine whistling a merry tune, whilst Merek, slumped miserably behind, his head hung low.

As they approached the tower they were met my two guards, dressed head to toe in black. The guards stepped forward, fiercely brandishing their weapons as the two men approached. "Who goes there?" Boomed one of the guards, "And what business do you have here?" He spat at Gwaine.

Gwaine looked down upon the guards as he dismounted, pulling Merek roughly forward and throwing him to his knees. "I come to pay my respects to the Lord of this tower, I bring a Slave, in hopeful return of work,"

The guard who had first spoken snarled, "What is your name? Where do you come from?!" He spat.

"My name is Merlin Sir," Lied Gwaine through his teeth, "I have come from The Great Seas of Meredor,"

"Odin's Land?" The guard raised his thick bushy eyebrows and rubbed his beard thoughtfully, "Odin has been a trusted ally of Claudius...Follow me!"

Gwaine, grabbed Merek roughly by the collar and followed the guard inside of the dark tower.

It stunk. Dried blood painted the walls, scratches covered them, Gwaine could even see a few human nails stuck into the walls where people had gripped so tightly to the stone. He shuddered.

"This way," The guard called, leading Gwaine and Merek down a dark corridor and to the bottom of a staircase. "Up here," The guard pointed.

The wind howled loudly, and blood curdling screams were audible from beneath. Gwaine froze.

"Not weak minded are you Merlin?" The guard jeered at Gwaine. "You'll get used to screaming if you stick around," He chuckled darkly as the three men continued up the staircase.

When they reached the top, they were greeted with warm torches, burning brightly, illuminating the corridor. At the end of the corridor was a human head, held up by a spike, there was a small puddle of blood, pooling around the base of the spear. Gwaine felt bile begin to rise in his throat. This place was disgusting.

They took a left into a large room where a roaring fire was heating the space. The place would have almost seemed pleasant under the circumstances. There was a large arm chair, covered with sheep skin, a cow hide spread wide next to the fire. It was almost fit for royalty. In the corner of the room was large oak table, covered in silver platters, with exquisite fruits which could only have been imported from the south. Out of the shadows stepped a tall man.

"And whom, have you brought me this time Henrik? More outlaws?" The man spoke, coldly, and high pitched. He was not an old man, perhaps middle aged. We wore a long black robe, and what appeared to be a dead crow hung around his thin neck. His skin was of the palest white, a plaited goatee hung from his chin. The mans jet black hair was greased back, and the firelight reflected it. He had cold black eyes, with high cheekbones and with his long crooked nose and thin mouth he almost made seemed comparable to that of a bird of prey.

"Claudius, My Lord," The guard bowed low. "This man arrived on the doorstep but minutes ago, he claims he is from the Great Seas of Meridor, and brings a slave in the return of work,"

"Leave us Henrik," Lord Claudius spoke coldly, dismissing the guard.

The guard scuttled out of the room leaving the brave Sir Gwaine standing before him, and Merek knelt by his side, his wrists still bound.

"What is your name?" Claudius' high voice rang throughout the room.

"My name is Merlin, my Lord," Said Gwaine, bowing to Claudius.

Claudius snorted as he circled Gwaine and Merek, eyeing them like prey. "Merlin... _hmpf,_" Claudius raised his eyebrows as he pulled Merek's face up with his pointed leather boot. "Healthy slave you have here Merlin, let's hope he's willing to..._cooperate_,"

"He is," Gwaine assured the tall man.

"You seek work do you not, Merlin?" Claudius asked, regarding the Knight before him.

"I do my Lord," Replied Gwaine earnestly.

"And you're from Odin's land..." Claudius fingered his goatee gingerly.

"I am,"

Claudius scoffed, "Are you any, relative of Odin?"

"N-No Sir," Replied Gwaine.

Claudius face turned cold, "Then tell me _Merlin_! What makes you foolish enough to even _think_ I would allow you work as a trader in _my _tower?!" Shrieked Claudius dangerously.

"I-I please sir. I am a strong man. An honest man. I am a good capturer." Said Gwaine solidly, but on the inside. He was frightened.

"Are you now?" Smirked Claudius. "Well, young Merlin, you must prove your loyalty first," He chuckled. "You shall start work as a servant, training the slaves." He laughed darkly, "Then we shall see how strong you are,"

* * *

Two weeks as a servant, Gwaine was almost at breaking point. He could not whip innocent men. He had tried as hard as he could in an attempt to deceive Claudius into believing he really was being as brutal as he was told to be. But he would always give the slaves extra scraps from the kitchen. It had been a long day that day, and Gwaine's mind was constantly tormented by the screams of the slaves of the place. But he needed to stay strong. Sir Gwaine was beginning to see how the tower operated. he knew all of the exits and entrances. However, he had been misguided into how big the tower really was and worst of all, guilt nagged his mind. He had not seen Merek in a week. Last thing he saw of Merek was when he had past him in the nightly checks of the first floor. At least he was still alive.

He was just about to retire to his chambers when he heard a scream. It was almost familiar, and coming from the dungeon in which the twisted Claudius used to extract information from Slaves from neighbouring Kingdom's.

_CRASH_. A sickening crunch of bones hitting stone with a great force was audible from below. Gwaine rushed quickly down to the source of the screaming, listening intently outside of the door. It was not uncommon to hear this, after all it was essentially a torture chamber of sort. But it was not often when someone had located a slave of some value.

"_WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!" _A loud voice of a Slave trainer boomed. "_TELL ME_!"

Another crash was heard as a body was thrown across the room. Gwiane winced, feeling the deepest sympathy for the poor victim inside the chamber. He vowed to himself that he would be giving the man who was causing this slave this unnecessary pain a hard time.

Then came a woman's voice, thick with tears.

"_G-Guinevere,"_


	5. Chapter 5

Was it her? It couldn't be. It wouldn't be. No. Gwaine pressed his ear closer to the door, he knelt down and peered through the key hole of the large oak door. Sure enough, to the Knight's sheer horror, a familiar figure lay crumpled on the floor, in the rags of what used to be a plum coloured travelling cloak. She was noticeably skinnier, starved even, if Gwaine had been looking at her mere silhouette he would not have recognised her. Her hair has matted and dirty and hung in a messy tangle about her face. Her arms which poked out of her cape her were bruised, and he noticed the numbers '743' branded into her forearm. A slave.

The terrible sight before the Knight brought tears to his eyes. It was unfair, unjust. He felt like a failure. The brave Sir Knight of Camelot couldn't even protect his friend, his future Queen. Gwaine's hands began to shake as he slowly backed into the alcove behind him. The door of the chamber swung open and a huge bear of a man stepped out dragging a half conscious Guinevere. The sight was pitiful. It was heartbreaking. Poor Guinevere was dragged maliciously like a dog by her forearm along the dark corridor. Bruises and scratches littered the former handmaidens face, dark circles framed her sweet almond eyes. Angry hand prints wrapped around the young woman's neck like tight red scarf. She was a terrible state. Never in the brave Sir Gwaine's life had he ever felt so helpless. Never had he ever felt so angry that someone was sick enough in the head to harm the sweet and gentle Guinevere in this way.

Seeing red, Gwaine threw himself out of the alcove and followed the vicious brute, who was now dragging Gwen away. He watched as her heels dragged limply along the ground, as she struggled to support herself. The strain was too much and she collapsed fully.

"Get up, you pathetic excuse for slave," Growled the brute. He kicked the maiden harshly in the ribs. A sickening crack echoed off of the dirty stained walls around them.

Gwaine felt sick. A thousands ways in which to inflict the most terrible pain on that pig of a man flashed through his mind in a matter of seconds. They reached the end of the corridor, and Guinevere was thrown into a cell like a rag doll. She collapsed onto the hay unconscious. The brute left the corridor stalking off, leaving Gwaine hiding among the shadows. As soon as the brute was out of sight he rushed to the bars of Guinevere's cell.

"_Gwen_," He whispered.

There was no answer.

"_Guinevere_," He tried again, desperate to see some kind of life in the smiling maiden he once knew. Gwaine almost kicked himself. He knew something had gone wrong when he had found her hairclip on the boarders of Mercia. He should have looked for his friend, he should have sent word back to Camelot, to Elyan, he should have done _something_. Yet, he did nothing. He stood by whilst Guinevere was mishandled and brutally treated. He felt disgusted with himself. She did not deserve this. Squeezing his arm gently through the bars of the cell he reached out to touch her. "_Guinevere,_" His voice began to crack, "Wake up, _please_ wake up," He felt so guilty. But there was no individual to blame. Even after Guinevere was exiled, the Knight's should have made sure she was okay, that she was safe, that she had somewhere to go. They all should have. She was their friend and they cast her out like a dog on the streets. "_Please Gwen,_"

She stirred.

He shook her a little more vigorously this time, but still his touch was gentle. "Gwen,"

She mumbled something.

"What was that?" He spoke softly to the girl, "Guinevere? Are you alright?"

"_A-Arthur?_" She mumbled, trembling with fear under Gwaine's touch.

"Fraid not," He said softly. "But the next best thing," He chuckled.

"D-Daddy?" She whimpered, shaking against the cold stone floor. She looked freezing.

Gwaine's heart began to break for the poor girl, he felt so helpless behind the bars. "I-I'm going to get you out of here okay?" Hot tears dripped down his wise face. "I promise you Guinevere. I-I'm going to get you out of here, I'm going to bring you back to Camelot, and you're going to live a long prosperous life," He was crying now. "Guinevere, please wake up! You _can't_ die here!" He reached out and grabbed her hand. It was so small in his, almost like a child's. She was so weak.

Guinevere began to stir again.

"Gwen?"

Slowly, but surely, Guinevere's eyes fluttered open. She frowned and looked around then shut her eyes again. She was still here. Still in this nightmare that consumed her. Placing a small hand over her eyes she began to weep. But there was someone near her. They had been calling her name. It sounded familiar. She looked at the large hand that was grasping her own. Her initial thought was Arthur, for it was the hand of a skilled swordsman. But Arthur's hands were larger...and Arthur had banished her, there was no reason for him to hold her hand anymore. The fingers on this hand were more slender, more defined, like a craftsman's hand.

"Guinevere?"

She looked up, and attempted to crawl over to the side of her cell. Gasping in surprise she found herself face to face with a brave Knight to Camelot. "G-Gwaine?" She stuttered. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Could it really be Sir Gwaine, one of Arthur's most trusted and loyal Knights? "Is t-that really you?"

"Yes!" Gwaine's heart leapt with joy at Guinevere's response and movement. She was alive. "Guinevere, are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine," She stuttered. But in total honesty, Guinevere was far from fine. She had been exiled, stoned, kidnapped, beaten, sold, whipped and trodden on until she could no longer stand, literally.

Gwaine laughed, "You're strong Gwen, you always were," He wiped his eyes and grasped Gwen's hand. "Listen, I'm _going_ to get you out of here,"

"What are you doing here?" Gwen whispered, "H-How did you know I was here?" She held on to the bars of the cell tightly, almost as if they were going to disappear.

"It's a long story." He sighed at the pitiful sight before. Guinevere always so sweet, so gentle, so strong and it broke his noble heart to see her reduced to puddle of bruises, scratches and broken dreams. "How long have you been here?"

"A few days at the most," Gwen shuddered. She had been captured about a month ago during her journey to find refuge. People had refused to take her in after word had spread from Camelot. Some people had even been so disgusted with her actions they had thrown things at her, rotten fruit and even stones! She had felt disgusted with herself. After a month of wandering around the woods aimlessly, she came to a village on the outskirts of Nemeth, where an old pig farmer had been kind enough to take her in. Or so she thought. The pig farmer was no friend, after a week or two of mucking out his pigs he had sold her to 'Jarl', the local slave trader in exchange for gold. From then on she had been dragged and beaten until finally, only a few days ago they had reached their destination. The tower.

"Is Arthur with you? Where are the others?" She asked hopefully. Perhaps Arthur had heard word? She knew Arthur was not heartless and would still help her despite what she had committed. He wouldn't condemn anyone to this fate, would he? He had exiled her after all. Yes, he _had_ shown mercy by not having her executed she supposed, but at what cost? What she had suffered was far worse than execution. Did he really hate her that much to subdue her to this unbearable agony.

"I-I...They're not here Gwen," Said Gwaine sadly. He had seen the glint of hope in her eyes thinking that her former lover had come to rescue her.

"You came alone?" She asked, surprised and little hurt. Did not even her own brother care for her anymore? And Merlin, where was he? He was supposed to be her friend!

"Guinevere...I didn't know you were here," Gwaine stated bluntly.

Gwen went quiet and felt a little embarrassed. "Oh um...Right." Feeling a little flustered she continued, "Sorry, I just thought that maybe...Never mind,"

"Well, the _original plan_ wasn't to rescue you, but now that you're here..." Gwaine grinned toothily.

"Gwaine...Why _are_ you here?" Asked Guinevere, confused.

"I was sent on a quest by Arthur," Explained Gwaine, "To liberate the slaves of Mercia,"

"On your own?" Asked Gwen clearly shocked at Gwaine's boldness and bravery.

"Yes I know," Gwaine started, "Call me brave, say that my persistence is futile-,"

"Are you _stupid _Gwaine?!" Exclaimed Guinevere angrily.

"What?" Asked Gwaine, evidently shocked at Guinevere's negative reaction.

"You cannot liberate the slaves of Mercia on your own! I do not think you brave Sir Knight I think you _foolish_!" Said Guinevere passionately.

Gwaine sighed. "I'm here undercover I-"

"_Merlin_," Came a cold a callous voice from behind Gwaine. "Does one have a soft spot for pretty maidens?" Claudius walked slowly up behind Gwaine who stood up rapidly giving a short bow to Claudius.

"No Sir, I was just checking that the girl was alive that's all, one of the guards was a little too rough with her," Gwaine explained. He was a good actor.

Claudius laughed, "You can never be too rough with a slave," He snarled. "You will learn that, in time Merlin,"

Gwaine nodded uncomfortably.

Claudius purred. "Hmmm, I hope we're not getting soft _Merlin_."

"Not at all my Lord," Said Gwaine shortly.

"_Good_." Claudius stated. "I need you to prepare the guest suite, I have visitors arriving tomorrow at dawn,"

"Yes my Lord," Gwaine nodded, and stalked off, but not before giving a meaningful glance at Guinevere, who was now huddled in the corner of her cell, with her arms tightly wrapped around her knees.

"Oh and _Merlin?_" Called Claudius after Gwaine.

Gwaine turned back around. "My Lord?"

"If I _ever_ catch you talking to one of the slave girls again, I _will _kill you, Merlin," Claudius glared at Gwaine, who merely nodded once again and walked off.

Claudius turned to smile at Guinevere, who was staying as far away from the man as her cell would allow her. "Such waste," He laughed at her, "A pretty thing like you stuck in a cage like a helpless dove. _Oh dear_," And with that, he laughed cruelly and followed Gwaine out of the door, leaving Guinevere quite alone.

It was winter in all of the five Kingdoms. The north of both Mercia and Camelot had even seen snow this winter. So by no means was Guinevere's cell warm. Morgana's former handmaiden wrapped her torn travelling cape as tightly as it would allow around her now thin and bony shoulders. A great deal of her body mass had been lost during her exile, for she had not found much to eat during her travels. Selling her cart full of possessions for a little extra gold to fend for herself had been her only solution to starvation, for no one would offer safe passage and good food to an adulterous maid. She shivered but smiled a little, as she remembered her little cottage in Camelot, and how she'd like to huddle by the fire on cold winter nights with a warm tankard of Camomile tea. Now she was a slave, known only by the name of '743'. Her identity had been demolished, as had her reputation back home, she was ruined. But there was still hope. Gwaine was here, although why he was undercover by the name of 'Merlin' she did not know. Why was he alone? What had possessed Arthur to send Gwaine on such a dangerous quest without back up? These questions swirled around her head as she drifted into deep, but disturbed slumber.

* * *

"_Guinevere,_" _Came a voice from behind her. _

_She sat up suddenly, confused. She was no longer in a dark and stinking cell, but in a forest. Standing up slowly she steadied herself. The forest was beautiful. Wild flowers of all kinds sprouted from the roots of the trees, spurting colour to the wood. In the distance, the faint tweetings of song birds was audible through the trees. Guinevere, looked down to her feet. They were bare, but not cold._

_"Guinevere,"_

_She spun around. There was nobody there. Frowning she tentatively took a step forward. The maiden felt vibrations through to her very soul as she stood in the wild clearing of the woods. The place was sacred, she could feel it, though it did not frighten her, it soothed her and made her feel at peace. Was this what death felt like? So peaceful, so beautiful..._

_"Guinevere,"_

_She could not determine where the voice was coming from, so she followed her instinct, making her way slowly down to the crystal clear stream running through the forest, where the water lapped playfully, demanding her attention. Smiling slightly, she sat on the bank of the stream, dipping her bare feet into the welcoming waters. _

_As her toes touched the water, bright golden sparks emitted out of the water. Frightened by the surreal little lights she almost withdrew her feet from the water, but refrained from it, for the sparks filled her body with a warming sensation that comforted her to the depths of her kind heart._

_"Guinevere,"_

_She closed her eyes, in complete relaxation, drawing a deep breath._

_"Guinevere, open your eyes,"_

_Gwen's eyes fluttered open slowly, and before her, stood a woman. The woman was almost floating above the stream, dressed all in white. Her hair was a silvery blonde, her skin as white as snow and her eyes as blue as sapphires. A silvery light shone from behind her, illuminating her very presence. _

_"Guinevere," Said the woman, smiling warmly at the maiden._

_"W-Who are you?" Asked Gwen, recoiling slightly from the waters._

_"I am the Lady of the Dawn, my name is Ostara." She said smiling, the light dimming slightly behind her, enabling Gwen to see her more clearly._

_"What do you want?" Said Gwen bravely._

_"I seek only to help you, for you are to aid the future of Albion, in peace and prosperity, allowing all of such creatures to roam freely in peace," Ostara explained to Guinevere._

_"Me?!" Asked Guinevere shocked, "I am but lowly servant, shunned and unwanted. How could I possibly aid to the future of the five Kingdoms? I am nobody!" _

_"You are more important than you know," Claimed Ostara proudly, "For you, and only you shall be the one to embrace the ways of the old religion!"_

_Guinevere frowned, "No," She whispered. "Sorcery is evil! Morgana has proved that to us all! I shall never embrace it!" She exclaimed passionately._

_"Do not be so naive young one, you know little of the old ways," Ostara smiled knowingly._

_"I don't understand," Guinevere cried. "I'm just a servant! A slave now even!" _

_"Look out for the white fox Guinevere, only then shall you be safe," Proclaimed Ostara, her eyes shining wildly._

_"White fox?" Guinevere asked, confusion evident upon her soft features. "What are you talking about? Where am I? I demand to know where I am!"_

_But before Ostara could reply her figure was replaced with that of a figure of nightmares. The Lady of the Dawn no longer hovered before the maiden, but instead, the towering black figure of her former mistress replaced her._

_Morgana grinned wickedly at Gwen, before laughing cruelly. Her cold laugh filled the clearing. The trees began crashing down beside her, Guinevere began to scream and run. But the faster she ran, the more hopeless her escape began. Her legs would not move. She began to feel a sharp burning in her forearm, and everything went black and cold._

"I hope you will be most satisfied with your accommodation, my Lady," A males voice boomed.

Guinevere stirred. She was no longer in the forest, but in a dark cell. All the pain she had previously suffered had returned to her tired body. It was but a dream. She was exhausted, but recognising the familiar voice of Claudius, she scurried painfully on her hands and knees into the shadows, hiding from him. Straining her ears, she heard what sounded like two sets of footsteps walking briskly down the corridor outside of her cell.

"I hope so, Claudius, after all I expect to be staying here until the next new moon," Came the voice of a woman.

Gwen shuddered. She'd recognise that voice anywhere. That was no ordinary guest. It was the voice of someone who used to be so dear to her, so gentle, sweet and kind, but had been corrupted by the greed for power and revenge.

_Morgana._

But what was she doing here? In a dark tower full of slaves. Surely if Morgana wanted a servant she could enchant anyone in the whole of Albion to do her bidding. Why had she come here? Did she want to _buy_ a slave? What business did she have with Claudius?

"Of course my Lady, you are most welcome to stay as long as you wish," Claudius guided Morgana straight past Guinevere's cell, his long black cloak flowing behind him, blowing stray strands of straw onto the floor of her cell.

"Where is Helios?" Asked Morgana, her voice becoming quieter as she travelled further and further away from where Gwen was situated.

Gwen did not hear Claudius' reply as the pair were already out of the corridor. She needed to warn Gwiane. Morgana would surely recognise the Knight, should she encounter him. Gwaine would be able to send word back to Camelot, to Arthur. Morgana was sure to be planning something vile, she worried for her safety and Camelot's.

* * *

"Word has been sent back to Camelot that Sir Gwaine, has began to infiltrate the slave system," Arthur Pendragon spoke proudly to his Knights of the round table. "We should hopefully have our brave fellow Knight back with us in under month,"

The Knights of the round table were beginning to miss their fellow Knight. Sir Gwaine always brought the gossip and horseplay to the court meetings, even when not appropriate, he always knew how to lighten the mood of court, much to the nobleman's dismay who had served in Uther's reign. However, not all of the Knights were as sure as Arthur about Gwaine's so called success in Mercia. One of which was Elyan.

"Permission to speak," Spoke the humble Elyan.

"Granted," The King smiled at the Knight.

"If I may my Lord," The Knight began, "That news arrived in Camelot a week ago. Young Borin sent word that Gwaine had entered the tower. We are yet to receive news, that he has exited it safely." Elyan finished, earnestly.

"Quite right, Elyan." Percival, sat next on Elyan's right. "But we must hope that Sir Gwaine is brave and wise and-"

"If ill word reaches Camelot, of Sir Gwaine's whereabouts, I shall lead a party _myself_ to aid, Gwaine on his quest. Not only is he a brave Knight of Camelot, but a true friend." Arthur clasped his hands together tightly, praying for the safe return of his friend. "Our trusted allies of Nemeth shall be arriving in the next few days. I should like you all to prepare yourselves for the visit." Arthur looked each of the Knights in the eyes, "That'll be all. Council dismissed."

The Knights slowly began to lift themselves from their seats, and made their way out of the council room one by one until all who were left in the high arched room, were that of Arthur and his manservant.

Merlin was troubled. He could not shake the feeling that something was not quite right. Sure, they had received news from Mercia, but that was a whole week ago. Sir Elyan was right, they had not heard news that Gwaine had safely completed his quest. All they knew was that he had gallivanted off into the tower with but a young inexperienced soldier for company! He grimaced, and hoped for his friends safety.

"What's troubling you Merlin?" Asked Arthur earnestly, rolling up the remaining pieces of parchment on the table, and placing them into the unwilling skinny arms of his manservant.

Merlin reluctantly took the parchment, still wearing a worried frown upon his hollowed face, "Nothing,"

"Come on Merlin, out with it," Said Arthur, rolling his eyes and leaning casually against the table.

"It's nothing," Said Merlin, staring at his feet.

Arthur sighed, frustrated, "Am I going to have to _beat_ this out of you?" He joked.

"It's just...Oh I don't know!" Snapped Merlin sighing. He turned away from the concerned King and began making his way to the door which was ajar.

"What?" Asked Arthur, "What's troubling you? _Tell_ me," He pressed.

Merlin turned around to face the King, looking at him full in the face, "Gwaine," He started.

"What about him?"

"I just-" Merlin scratched his head frowning, "Something's not right, I know it isn't,"

"_Relax_ Merlin," Huffed Arthur, giving his servant a rough pat on the back, "He's just fine,"

"I just have this funny feeling-"

Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically. "You and your funny feelings Merlin. You'd be better off sticking to what you do best,"

"Which is?" Asked Merlin.

Arthur scoffed, "Well, it's definitely not serving!" He smiled clapping Merlin lightly around the back of the head. "And it's not thinking either!"

"Ow!" Cried Merlin, dropping a few of the parchments onto the floor, "What was _that_ for?" The warlock massaged the back of his head, wincing.

"For being a clot pole," Arthur smirked.

"That's _my _word!" He grumbled.

"Yeah, and it suits you perfectly,"

Merlin frowned slightly, "I think that you should send Gwaine some back up, a few Knights perhaps, make sure he's alright," Merlin stated to his King.

Arthur sighed. "I _can't_," He ran a hand through his sandy hair, "My uncle does not deem it wise to send so many important men. Gwaine is supposed to be undercover, Merlin! With Nemeth arriving so shortly, Camelot needs to appear strong for it's allies!"

"Then Agravaine's wrong!" Exclaimed Merlin. "Can't you see he's talked you into this! Just like he talks you into-"

"_Merlin_. Agravaine is one of my loyalist subjects whom possesses my utmost trust. You _will_ learn to give him the _respect_ he deserves!" Arthur stated boldly, scolding the warlock.

"But-"

"But nothing!" Said Arthur, sighing. "I trust Agravaine's judgement Merlin,"

"More than you trust your own?" Merlin challenged.

"Merlin?"

"Yes Sire?"

"_Get out._"


	6. Chapter 6

**Copy right claims to the BBC for some of the text inserted.**

* * *

"My lords, fellow knights, gentlemen...as you are all aware, Camelot's claim to the lands of Gedref has long been in dispute." Arthur Pendragon began, addressing the nobleman of the court. "Today I can announce, that after many months of confidential negotiations, the kingdoms of Nemeth and Camelot have reached an agreement." Arthur looked over his subjects with confidence and authority, for he had not spoken a word of his negotiations with the Princess to any of them. It had been his secret. But now, it was time to relay the news.

A few of the Knights and nobleman muttered and frowned. Merlin nudged Gaius giving him a pointed look. The King had not mentioned a word of these negotiations to the warlock, or perhaps it had slipped his mind, the King was so wrapped up in his duties nowadays that Merlin found it quite difficult to keep track. However, Merlin had another of his funny feelings about what the King was about to say and he didn't like it, not one bit.

"There's nothing to fear. It is a fair and honourable agreement that befits two great kingdoms." Arthur explained. "Furthermore, our friendship will be cemented by a union that cannot be broken." Arthur looked nervous. "My hand in marriage to Her Royal Highness, Princess Mithian."

Merlin's jaw dropped faster than the draw bridge of Camelot on its enemies. Arthur was getting married? _Married? _To the Princess of Nemeth? Arthur had definitely not mentioned this to Merlin, something of this great importance would never have slipped the warlocks mind. Arthur _couldn't_ marry the Princess! What of Guinevere what of-

The evidence of sheer shock must have been noticeably visible upon the young mans face, as the court physician nudged him hard in the ribs, bringing him back to reality.

"Smile," Whispered Gaius to Merlin.

Merlin shook his head, still stunned, "He can't mean that," He murmured to Gaius. He couldn't mean that! Surely Arthur still loved Gwen? It was all so sudden. Merlin felt a little dizzy.

"And clap!" Gaius scolded, trying to hide the warlock's raw emotion. "Smile and clap,"

And he did. Merlin smiled and clapped, watching as Arthur smiled down nobly at his subjects.

Shortly after the court had been dismissed, Merlin rushed after the newly betrothed King. He couldn't mean that he wanted to marry the Princess, Merlin just had to talk some sense into him that's all. Yes, after Merlin had consulted with the King and made him realise that he was making a huge mistake every thing would be alright again. Merlin sped up a little and called after his friend.

"How come I didn't know any of this?" He was angry at Arthur. Why had the King not consulted him? Weren't they supposed to be friends? "How come you didn't say anything?" Merlin challenged.

Arthur turned around to face his manservant, rolling his eyes, "That's what _confidential_ means, Merlin." He stated plainly, "Keeping it from blabbermouths like you!"

Merlin breathed heavily, not knowing what to say to the King before blurting out quickly; "You can't do this!"

Arthur feigned acceptance, "No, you're right, I can't." Before adding sharply, "Oh, wait a second...I'm the King, so _I can_."

Merlin steadied himself, before approaching the delicate subject, "Surely it's a little bit..." He trailed off awkwardly.

Arthur eyes his servant wearily, "A bit what?" He answered stubbornly.

"Soon?"

Arthur feigned ignorance, but is clearly angry and upset underneath, "What do you mean?"

Merlin hesitated, not knowing how to express his opinion to the volatile King, "Erm, well-"

Arthur glared at Merlin, folding his arms defiantly, "You mean Guinevere." His lip curled into a cold snarl, "I thought I told you not to mention her name again."

"Which is why I didn't." Said Merlin, staring awkwardly into the tiles on the corridor floor, wishing one of them would swallow him whole.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Spat Arthur, evidently upset at Gwen's mention, "Guinevere made her choice. She _betrayed_ me. Now she must take the consequences." He began to turn away before Merlin spoke up again.

"But-" Merlin started.

Arthur span around on his heels once again to face the warlock, "But what?"

"Nothing." Merlin said defiantly.

"That's right. _Nothing_." Arthur finished, and began to stalk off down the corridor once again, angered by his servants honest mind.

"Except that you still love her."

Arthur saw nothing but red. Arthur had tried so hard to move on from his former love but could not. This seemed the only way for him to do so. If he couldn't bring his heart away from Guinevere physically, he must legally bring it away from her. Then he had to suffer with the likes of Merlin, bringing her name up, reopening the deep wound she had left in his heart.

* * *

He walked towards the warlock menacingly, "You ever say _anything_ like that again and I swear you'll join her in exile forever!" Arthur spat at Merlin furiously. They glared at each other, before Arthur turned and left for good.

Gwaine had not seen Guinevere for almost two days since their last encounter. He did not want to draw attention to himself and get Guinevere into trouble. Not being able to stay away from his friend any longer, as he was frightened at what may have happened to the young maiden, he snatched up a loaf of bread from the kitchens, along with a small lump of cheese and a jug of water and quietly made his way down to her dingy little cell.

"Gwen?" He called out into the darkness, listening for any sign of movement before he advanced.

"Gwaine?" She answered, her voice hoarse and her throat dry from dehydration. "Is that you?" She crawled to the edge of her cell and peered out through the bars, spotting the Knight holding a tray. "It _is_ you!" She beamed, her dry lips cracking as she did so, it had been hours since she last tasted water.

"Here," Said Gwaine, placing the food in front of her, "You must be starving," He grimaced, noticing how thin she was.

"Thank you," She whispered gratefully, grabbing the water and downing its contents. Breathing heavily after finishing, she tentatively picked up the bread and cheese and began to nibble on it slowly. It had been a while since she'd eaten too.

Gwaine sat beside the cell, leaning up against a nearby stone pillar, "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice filled with concern.

"As well as can be expected," Guinevere said, her voice muffled due to her full mouth, as she chewed hungrily at the food generously provided.

"I'm gonna get you out of here," Said Gwaine quietly. "I'm going to-"

Guinevere sighed, interrupting the Knight, "Please... Don't make promises you cannot keep Sir Gwaine,"

Gwaine sat up boldly, "Gwen I-"

"Listen," Gwen addressed the Knight with the utmost severity. "I have important news, but you _must_ listen.

"What is it?" Asked Gwaine, frowning, his attention focusing on the former subject of Camelot before him.

"_Morgana_," Said Gwen breathlessly, "She's _here_, in the Tower,"

"Impossible," Said Gwaine sharply, "What business would she have here? In a place like this? It's very unlikely Gwen-"

"I _know _what I saw!" Exclaimed Gwen angrily. "She is here! You must believe me! She's doing business with Claudius, it cannot be good. Listen Gwaine, you must find out what she's up to and send word back to Camelot, back to Arthur,"

"_No_. Morgana's dangerous, I'm getting us _both_ out of here, only then shall we send for back up!" Gwaine stated standing up, "I'll come back tonight and we shall make our escape. Be ready." He sated passionately. Gwaine noticed Gwen still possessed Arthur's ring on a leather cord around her thin neck. When she spoke she would finger, it, almost as if it brought her comfort. He grimaced, wanting nothing more than Gwen to be back in Camelot safe from harms way.

"Alright," Said Gwen nervously, her voice trembling. "But you _must_ hurry, there is not much time left. We do not know what Morgana is up to Gwaine,"

"We _will_ send for back up," He turned to go before quickly adding, "Stay safe Gwen,"

Gwen nodded and smiled politely at the Knight as he walked away before sliding back into the shadows of her cell. She held her betrothal ring tightly in her small hands, pressing it to her lips once in a while, reminding her of what she had lost and the beautiful love she once had, but destroyed. She was nervous about the escape. What if they were caught? What if they didn't make it? What was to become of her now?

* * *

Arthur stood nervously on the steps waiting for the Princess to arrive. What would she look like? Had he made the right decision? Hearing the sounds of hooves and cheers from just around the corner he stood taller and smiled upon the approaching party of Knights.

"Knights of Nemeth, Camelot welcomes you, and extends the hand of friendship. " The King spoke loudly to the approaching Knights.

The guards in front of the Princess moved aside and allowed the Princess to approach. Arthur stepped down from the stairs, taking a breath, as he prepared himself to meet his future bride. His palms were sweating underneath his thick leather gloves. This was it. Was it too late to turn back now?

The Princess raised her veil revealing herself. Her porcelain skin resembled that of a snow flake, flawless and bright. Her eyes were of a deep brown, full of wisdom and prosperity and her lips, a soft pink. The perfect Princess. She was truly beautiful.

Arthur's jaw dropped, stunned by her beauty. He had hoped for the best and a kind heart, but he had not expected such beauty.

Princess Mithian smiled a little at the dumbfounded King.

From behind, Merlin raises his eyebrows at her loveliness and rolled his eyes, whilst Arthur collected himself and stepped forward, a guard helped the Princess dismount.

King Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, "Princess Mithian, you are most welcome."

Mithian smiled, "Thank you, Your Highness. I have heard much about you," A glint in her eyes, told the King that she was talking about his letters, a faint blush arose to her cheeks, "And you are more handsome in person than reports suggested."

Arthur was not quite sure how to handle the sudden compliment, he shifted his feet awkwardly, he felt like preteen once more. "Erm..." He stumbled.

Mithian raised a shapely eyebrow at the King before addressing him, "Are we to stay in this chill all day?"

Arthur smiled, realising his lack of words, "Forgive me." He reaches forward and takes the Princess's hand before turning to his welcoming committee. "Tomorrow there will be a great feast to welcome our worthy friends."

The knights, councilmen and courtiers applauded and smiled. Merlin's smile faded, he had only hoped that the Princess was not beautiful. Despite being faithful in the fact that Arthur's love for Gwen was still strong, but it didn't help that the Princess was extremely attractive, beautiful even. Merlin still thought that Gwen was prettier, and glared at the King from behind his back.

* * *

"Sir Gwaine," Came a voice from behind the brave Knight, "_Sir Gwaine!_"

Gwaine whipped around to locate where the source of the voice was coming from. He was stood inside of the serving quarters after just having waited on the slave traders. Gwaine had been desperate to free Gwen, but he had not yet come up with a plan.

"Over here!" Came the voice again.

Gwaine turned again and was met with a familiar face he had not seen in weeks. He beamed. "_Merek_!" Running over to where the young soldier was perched behind a large wooden barrel, he gave the young solider a solid embrace, patting him on the back. "Are you alright?" Gwaine asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm fine," Said Merek sadly, "Coping at least, it's not everyday you get one of these," He pulled the sleeve of his shirt up revealing a sore looking red brandishing mark which read '925'.

Gwaine looked at the burn, wincing, "I'm sorry Merek. It was unfair of me to bring you here," He looked sadly at the young soldier. "But I need you to get out of here for me," He said, a hint of urgency filling his voice.

"What do you mean?" Asked Merek, "What about you? You need to get out too!"

"No," Said Gwiane, "I have heard from a trusted source, of some information that has changed the entire nature of our mission young soldier."

"What do you mean?" Merek squinted at the Knight, confusion evident on his young facial features.

"The Lady Morgana is here,"

"_What_?" Merek's face filled with sudden concern, "What are you gonna do?"

"We must send word to Camelot," Explained Gwaine, "We are in _way_ over our heads here. We cannot fight against sorcery, it's impossible!"

"Okay, so we'll _both_ go back to the village, back to Lord Doran," Said Merek, still in shock, processing this late information.

"You shall ride to Camelot," Said Gwaine quickly, "We will meet by south wing when the moon rises in the east, do you understand?"

"Why can't we go now?" Asked Merek, worried for his and Gwaine's safety if they stayed in the towers realms a second longer.

"There is something I must do," Said Gwaine hurriedly, "If you can, saddle three of the horses, I must go now. Don't be late," He added before beginning to make his way out of the kitchens.

Merek called after him, "Why three? There's only two of us,"

Gwaine turned and smiled, "Your future Queen is in the tower my friend, and damsels are my speciality," He winked, before hurrying off. Jogging lightly down the corridor to where the keys to the cells were kept, he skidded to a halt.

"_Merlin_?" Sneered a voice from behind him, "What's the hurry?" It was Henrik, the snide guard he had met on his first day on arriving at the tower, "Claudius and his guests are hungry, he would like for you to bring them their supper,"

Gwaine gulped, "Yes Sir," But he did not move.

"Well? Go on then _Merlin_." Henrik jeered, "It's on the Kitchen table, I suggest you hurry, Claudius doesn't like to be kept waiting,"

Gwaine slowly moved in the direction of the kitchens. What would he do? Surely Morgana would recognise him? Perhaps not, he would just have to go in, serve the food and get straight back out again, keeping his head low and his mouth sealed. He'd need to get straight back to the key room once after, and quickly if they were to have any chance of escape. Grabbing the large tray of festivities that lay upon the kitchen table, Sir Gwaine made his way to the large dining area, where Claudius and his guests would be dining. It disgusted him that Claudius indulged himself in such pleasantries whilst hundreds of slaves starved in the Tower around him. Approaching the door he could hear voices.

"My Lady, you ask too much," Claudius' high voice pierced Gwaine's ears.

"The Lady Morgana has much to offer you Claudius," Came another voice that Gwaine did not recognise. "Please consider carefully,"

Gwaine frowned, pressing his ear to the door, listening intently.

"The slaves are all I possess, Helios, you must understand, they're my business, where my wealth lies," Claudius began slowly, "To simply take all of my slaves away from me-"

"But of course," Morgana cut in, "You shall share the profits!"

"The profits?" Claudius instantly perked up at the mention of wealth.

Gwaine grimaced at the mans greed.

Morgana spoke quietly, and Gwaine pushed himself even closer to the door as it were possible, "I seek only the throne of Camelot," Morgana whispered to Claudius.

"Camelot is indeed full of wealth and riches," Claudius contemplated, "And how much would _I_ receive?"

"That depends," Smirked Morgana.

"On what exactly?" Asked Claudius.

"How good an army your slaves deem themselves to be," Morgana smirked, her glee evident through her voice.

"Slaves are not warriors my Lady," Said Claudius slowly, "I fear...You will be displeased as such,"

"Then we shall _make_ them into warriors," Came the voice of the warlord Helios.

"And you are forgetting something my dear Claudius," Morgana smiled, "_I_ have magic!"

Gwaine could bear to hear any more of Morgana's wicked plan, and knocked loudly on the door to the dining hall.

"Ah!" Said Claudius abruptly, "That will be our supper. Enter!"

Gwaine entered, his head bowed low. He walked over to where the trio were situated, placing the food in front of them.

Morgana gave him a strange eye. Had she recognised him?

"That will be all, Merlin," Claudius dismissed Gwaine, who walked all too quickly out of the room.

Morgana turned suddenly to Claudius, "Who is your servant?!" She demanded, wanting to assure her suspicions were correct. The servant looked very familiar to her. The dark long hair, the muscular shoulders, the poise, and the name _Merlin_. Merlin was not a common name and the only Merlin Morgana knew was one that dwelled in Camelot!

"What _Merlin_?" Asked Claudius, bewildered as to why the Lady Morgana would be interested in such trivial affairs. "He's only been here a few weeks, turned up on the doorstep asking for work and-"

"He is no _servant_!" Cried Morgana standing up fuming, "That is Sir Gwaine, a Knight of Camelot! He is a spy! GUARDS, AFTER HIM!" Shrieked Morgana.

The guards sprinted after Gwaine, who was now about half way down the corridor. Gwaine broke into a run.

He ran down the corridor as fast as his legs would carry him but was cut off by two guards their swords raised. Quickly running in the opposite direction he made his way, sprinting down the stairs to the lower cells into the south wing. The moon began to shine brightly through the window from the east. He was running out of time. The guards forever on his heels as he skidded to a halt, before murmuring to himself aloud, "_Gwen!" _He span around and headed in the direction of her cell.

"Gwaine!" Gwen cried, seeing the Knight fast approaching. Her heart sank, guards were fast on his heels. They were never going to make it out of here, let alone alive, "Gwaine, where's the _key_?" She asked frantically, "Give me the key!" She shrieked.

Gwaine began to shake with fear, gripping the bars of Guinevere's cell angrily. He had not gotten the key, he hadn't no time to get it. "I-I-AGHH!" He screamed, attempting to rip the bars off of her cell with his bare hands, in his anger with himself.

Gwen knew that he had not succeeded, she had not expected him to, she could here the guards getting closer and closer, "You have to go Gwaine!" She panicked as the armed men were near approaching. "Save yourself!"

"I'm _not_ leaving you here," He stated firmly.

"You _must_," Gwen urged, "_Please_, get word to Arthur. _GO!" _She shouted at the Knight.

He started at the thin girl before him. Trembling with anger, he pressed his face to the bars and groaned in agony. Looking down into Gwen's eyes he grabbed her small hands firmly before saying, "I'm coming back for you Gwen,"

Gwen smiled a watery smile. "Don't-"

"_No!_ I am coming back for you. I made you a promise I was going to get you out of here, and I'll swear by it!"

_"THERE HE IS! SEIZE HIM!"_

Gwen panicked pushing Gwaine away from her, "_Go_! Get out of here,"

And with that Gwaine ran, he ran faster than he ever had in his life, descending the spiral staircase and running out into the open. It was a clear night. The Knight could see the silhouette of a young soldier riding atop a familiar white mare with two other horses tethered to him. Running over to the soldier he quickly mounted one of the horses.

"Let's go!" Shouted Gwaine to the solider, and they set off at a gallop. Flying back across the marshes, they reached the Mercian boarders in little under an hour. The two men began to slow to a canter, then a trot until finally they began to ride slowly into the dark forest.

"Let the other horse go," Said Gwaine breathlessly, as he heaved over the neck of his horse, clearly exhausted.

The soldier obeyed, looking worriedly at the Knight, "What happened? Wheres-"

"There's no time to explain," Said Gwaine quickly, "You must ride back to Camelot, take the western rode through Escetir. You must not stop, not until you get to Camelot's boarders _do you understand_?!" Gwaine ordered.

"But Sir Gwiane, that will take an entire day!" Exclaimed Merek.

"You must tell Arthur, that Morgana is planning to use the slaves as an army against Camelot. You must send for back up!" Shouted Gwaine urgently, "DO NOT _STOP_, DO NOT _REST_, UNTIL YOU REACH CAMELOT'S BOARDERS!"

"But Sir-"

"RIDE ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT IF YOU HAVE TO!" Gwaine shouted at Merek, "_Please_ Merek, you must understand!" Gwaine's voice began to crack, "_Leave me_!"

Merek nodded, "Yes Sir,"

_"Go!"_

Merek galloped off into the west leaving Gwaine quite alone. Tired, weak and famished, he began to walk his horse in the direction of Lord Doran's village where Borin and Ysmay resided. He felt like a failure. No closer to liberating the slaves of Mercia than he was to rescuing Gwen, his King would be ashamed of him. Tears pricked at the Knight's kind eyes, but he defiantly blinked them away. What would Arthur say if he had known? If Arthur had been there he would not have left Gwen, he would have stayed with her, as would Merlin. Gwaine was sure of it. The King was much braver than he. Gwaine felt like a coward. He did not feel brave, he did not feel honourable, he did not feel noble. He was no Knight of Camelot.

_"Gwaine,_" Whispered a voice through the trees.

Gwaine shook his head, "_No_, it's just your mind playing tricks on you, ignore it," He muttered to himself, journeying on through the forest.

"_Gwaine,_" The voice came again through the trees.

"Who's there?!" Gwaine shouted, feeling around on the saddle in search for a sword. Locating the weaponry, he drew the sword and waved it around, checking for surrounding danger.

"_Be not afraid brave Knight,_" Came the voice.

Gwaine could see nothing, it was almost as if the trees were whispering to him. All of a sudden, a bright golden light appeared in the distance, illuminating shapes through the glade before him. Frowning, he urged his horse on a little further to investigate. "Who are you?" He asked warily.

"_Follow the light_,"

"And why should I?!" Argued Gwaine fiercely, "So you can lead me to my doom? I think not! Whoever you are, leave me alone!" Gwaine tuned his horse away from the Knight, urging it in the opposite direction.

"_We shall meet at a later moon, on a stranger tide, brave Knight," _The voice whispered_, "When all hope seems lost and Emrys comes, we shall meet,_"

The light slowly disappeared, "What? Who is Emrys? Where are you?" He asked, confused. Glancing around he could not locate the light. It was once again pitch dark, asides from the moon which shone only on the eastern path, the path in which Gwaine began to make his way down. "Hello?" He called out, waiting for a response. Shaking his head, and brushing off his shivers as he continued down the path back to the village of Misericors, feeling guilty and lost.


	7. Chapter 7

Elbows on the table, with his chin atop his palms, Merlin picked at his lumpy porridge feebly, looking solemn. It had been a week since Princess Mithian's arrival and the King and the Princess had been getting along far too well for Merlin's liking. It's not that he didn't _want_ the King to be happy, but he believed it was Arthur's fate to marry his friend. His friend that the King had banished for adultery. Merlin sighed, his head heavy upon his neck.

Gaius eyed the warlock, sighing at the boys solemn face before asking, "Are you going to sulk all day?"

Merlin scoffed, "Not sulking," He replied childishly. The warlock was of course sulking, the last thing he wanted was for Arthur to marry some stuck up Princess. But that was the issue. Princess Mithian was not a stuck up Princess. In fact, she was quite the opposite. The Princess was kind, gentle, and wise. But she wasn't Gwen!

"You haven't said a word this morning." Gaius pointed, shovelling some of his porridge into his mouth.

Merlin sighed irritably before answering, "I'm thinking."

"You know how bad _that_ is for you." The old physician chuckled, smiling sadly at the young sorcerer before him.

Merlin sighed again, "It is Arthur's fate to marry Gwen." He stated boldly, looking at pointedly at Gaius.

Gaius frowned, swallowing his mouthful, "If that's the case, then he will." Answered the old man wisely.

Merlin raked his fingers through his hair in anxiety, "But am I supposed to do anything about it?" He asked, desperate for an answer.

Gaius frowned at Merlin "You don't think that's a little arrogant?"

"Yes! ...and no. I don't know. I don't know what to do anymore!" Exclaimed Merlin, flopping his head onto the old wooden table.

"You could start by eating your porridge." Gaius commented.  
_  
__Knock knock_

Sir Leon opened the creaky door, poking his sandy head around the frame, before speaking, "Gaius, I have a message from Sir Percival. He requires your presence."

Merlin and Gaius frowned at each other, before getting up and following Leon out of the physician's chambers. The pair followed the Knight out into the passage way and along the corridor leading to the entrance hall. Approaching, they began to see a crowd of Knights and guards surrounding a body.

"Over here," Sir Leon gestured over to the body.

It was Merek.

"Out of my, out of my way, let me through," Grumbled Gaius, pushing through the crowd.

The young boy was unconscious, but he was breathing. Dust from the western road was encrusted into his soft teenage stubble. Large, deep bags highlighted his once youthful looking eyes. The young soldiers lips were cracked and dry as if he was severely dehydrated. Blisters littered Merek's hands as though he had been riding for days without rest.

"Bring him to my chambers," Said Gaius urgently after examining the body carefully. The physician watched as the young solider was lifted up and carried towards his chambers before turning to his assistant. "Merlin, perhaps you ought to fetch Arthur. The boy was accompanying Gwaine, he looks as if he's been riding without rest. It must have been important, if we were to ride throughout the night!"

Merlin nodded shortly, "I'll go right away!" The warlock called over his shoulder as he began to jog quickly up to the King's chambers. Running up to the door and thrusting it open he glanced around the King's chambers. Arthur was sat at his table with the Princess Mithian. They were laughing. Merlin glared at the royals.

"_Merlin_!" Cried Arthur, clearly bothered by Merlin's lack of warning before barging into the King's chambers, "Have you ever _heard_ of knocking?" Merlin never knocked.

"I'm sorry Sire but it's important!" Exclaimed Merlin, walking over to where the King was sat with the Princess.

Arthur frowned at the warlock, "I don't _care_ Merlin I-"

"Arthur you need to come now!" Cried Merlin, beckoning the King, "It's the young soldier Merek, he's just ridden into Camelot unconscious, he looks as if he's been riding all night, something must have happened-"

Arthurs face fell, "Gwaine," He said sharply, jumping to his feet and pushing past his manservant, before running out of the room.

Merlin turned to the Princess, who was now looking rather startled. He shrugged at her before running out after Arthur out of the door, which was left ajar.

* * *

"He's coming around Sire," Said Gaius, wafting a herbal poultice above the soldiers nose in an avid attempt to wake the boy. "_Merek_?"

Merek began to stir, the lids of his eyes began to bat as he slowly regained consciousness. Every thing was blurry to the boy. He remembered riding through a forest, over fields. He remembered the sun rising, then setting once again, then rising again as he slipped in and out of consciousness upon his mount. He remembered the solid white mare he was riding had sunk beneath him and he had collapsed outside the castle gates. Five figures loomed above him, all peering down at him looking anxious, one of which was the King himself. Merek shifted himself up onto his elbows before croaking, "Y-Your Majesty,"

"It's alright," Arthur reassured, pushing the boy back down, "You're safe now,"

The King had a heart of gold. "W-Water-" Merek croaked, his voice hoarse and his lips cracking and bleeding with dehydration

Merlin grabbed a tankard of water on the side and handed it to Merek, helping the young soldier obtain the cool liquid.

Merek gasped. "M-More,"

Merlin refilled the tankard, allowing Merek to down the fresh water once again, "What happened Merek? Where's Gwaine?" Merlin asked, his voice edged with concern.

"Let the boy _drink_, Merlin," Said Gaius sternly, "He's severely dehydrated,"

The door to Gaius's chambers burst open, and in bustled an out of breath Elyan, "Sire," He huffed, slowly catching his breath back, "Sire, the boys horse, it's dead. Died of exhaustion. He must have been riding for sometime."

"T-Three days," Merek whispered hoarsely, his voice edged with pain and sheer exhaustion.

"Why on _earth_ were you riding for three days?" Asked Sir Leon, confusion spread throughout his features.

"Please Sire," Started Gaius, "The boy has been through what seems to be, a terrible ordeal, might we _not_ crowd him."

Arthur nodded, "You're right," Arthur turned to the Knights, "Leon, Percival, Elyan, your presence is not required, leave us," He gestured for the Knights to leave the room and they followed one another out. The King turned back to Merek, drawing up a chair next to the cot the young soldier lay upon. He edged closer to Merek speaking quietly, his voice tender, filled with concern for his young subject, "Merek, tell me what happened, where is Borin? Gwaine?"

Merek gestured for Merlin to get him another tankard of water, he took it graciously from the warlock and began to sip it slowly, "Borin is in the village of Misericors, looking after Ysmay Sire,"

"The woman who came to Camelot?" Asked the King, frowning slightly.

"Yes Sire," Replied Merek, his voice weak.

"Where's Gwaine?" Asked Merlin, "What _happened_?"

"Let the boy rest Merlin!" Gaius warned sternly.

"No, it's alright," Said Merek, propping himself up on a few hay stuffed pillows. "I'd imagine Gwaine has probably reached the village too by now," He coughed a little and clicked his neck, stiff from the continuous riding. "Gwaine and I, we had got into the tower, undercover. I was acting as a slave," He pulled up his sleeve revealing his brand '925'.

Merlin and Arthur winced at the painful brand, both feeling guilty and responsible for what trauma the soldier had suffered, and so young at that.

Merek shrugged off the pitiful glances, and continued, "Gwaine was working as a servant,"

Merlin scoffed and his mouth twitched upwards slightly, "I bet he loved that,"

Merek grimaced, "Everything was going fine until he came to me, saying that word had got out that the Lady Morgana had arrived,"

The three listeners visibly tensed at the mention of Arthur's half sister.

"What does _Morgana_ want with _Slaves_?" Asked Arthur, clearly just as confused as the rest of them, crowded around the small cot.

"She said," Merek coughed loudly, "S-She said that-well, _Gwaine_ said that she was building an army Sire," He finished, going once again into a loud coughing fit.

"Here, drink this," Gaius offered a little yellow vile to the young solider, "It should sooth your throat,"

Merek downed the vile, and grimaced, "Egh! Disgusting!" He spat.

"This isn't good." Said Merlin quietly, "We've been on the receiving end of an army in control of Morgana twice now, and only just made narrow escapes," Merlin's blue eyes conveyed across his worry blatantly.

"Merlin's right," Said Arthur bravely, "She needs to be stopped,"

"That's not all Sire," Said Merek, "Sources have confirmed, that she's working with the War Lord, Helios,"

Arthur's face dropped. "_What_?" Morgana with an army at her control was one issue, but Morgana working with the known brutal War Lord Helios was another. The King paused, before saying loudly, "We ride at dawn," his voice full of authority.

"Arthur-" Merlin protested almost immediately.

"_No_ Merlin," Stated Arthur, "One of my Knight's needs help, and my Kingdom needs protecting," The King said passionately, standing up and heading towards the door.

"I'm coming with you," Stated Merek boldly, attempting to lift himself out of the cot, but was pushed firmly back down by Gaius.

"You need to rest Merek," Said Gaius, shaking his wise old head, "You're in no fit state to ride,"

"Gaius is right," Said Arthur, looking sympathetically at the boy, "You'll stay in Camelot." Arthur turned to Merlin, "Merlin, I need you to round up the Knights, I'm calling an emergency council meeting,"

* * *

"It has most recently come to my attention by a worthy source, that the witch, Morgana, is working with a well know enemy. Helios the Warlord, in attempt to build an army," Exclaimed Arthur to the presences at the table. "Morgana, has infiltrated the Tower of Mancipium, the known slave head quarters, and is working with the known trader, Lord Claudius. I believe she intends to enchant the slaves into an army in an avid attempt to overthrow Camelot." Arthur grimaced. "As you all are aware, Sir Gwaine was sent on a quest only one month ago in an attempt to free the slaves of Mercia. Tomorrow, I will lead a small brigade of men to not only aid Sir Gwaine on his quest, but to destroy Morgana's alliances."

The court members and Knights muttered among themselves about the heavy news, just placed upon them until Lord Agravaine spoke up.

"Sire, if I may," Agravaine began snidely, "The tower of Mancipium lies just past Escetir and Mercia, neither or which are trusted allies of Camelot. King Lot, I believe, would launch an attack on Camelot if he found out you had sent an armed patrol through his lands,"

"I believe it is the risk we must take uncle," Replied Arthur flatly, "Sir Gwaine is in need of our help, and to protect our land, we must see fit to-"

"But at what cost Arthur?" Agravaine pressed, "Travelling to stop a war, only to cause one. It is not a wise decision my Lord,"

"Permission to speak?" Came a high sweet voice in the court.

Everybody turned their heads to the bold and beautiful Princess of Nemeth.

Arthur looked at the Princess, before gesturing to her, "Princess, go ahead,"

"Forgive me if I may speak boldly, my Lord," Mithian spoke aloud, "But I do believe, under the circumstances, my father would be able to grant you and your knights safe passage through Nemeth's southern boarders, approaching the tower from a southerly angle," The Princess suggested, her emotional expression full of wisdom and bravery.

Arthur frowned and considered the Princess for a moment. "I fear that may take weeks, and we have little time to spare," Said Arthur sadly. "But thank you, Mithian,"

"Is there no way, we could perhaps persuade Bayard to grant us safe passage?" Sir Leon interjected, "Surely he detests sorcery as much as the rest of us, after what happened all those years ago with Nimueh in Camelot?"

"But is that a risk we can afford to take?" Asked Agravaine, eyeing the King. After the court was finished Agravaine would send immediate word to Morgana. She would be pleased with his bidding.

"It is a risk we must take," Said Arthur finally, "We ride at dawn, and I shall need _all_ of the Knights of Camelot." He stated before adding more sincerely, "We will need all of the help we can get."

* * *

"Arthur," Came a small voice from behind the King. It was early dawn, the sun had barely risen and there was a slight chill in the air. Princess Mithian wrapped her emerald cloak tightly around herself as she hurried after her betrothed. "_Arthur_!" She called a little louder.

The Kind span around to face the Princess, "Mithian," He smiled, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes.

She opened her soft lips to speak "I-"

"Mithian," Said Arthur, placing a hand on her dainty shoulder, "I deeply apologise for this..._Occurrence_. I know that it is badly timed, under the circumstances..." He trailed off.

"It is quite alright Arthur," Mithian smiled understandingly, "Your Kingdom is in danger, and you must do your noble duty to protect it," She glanced up into his bright blue eyes. "Although, I do quite hope you return soon my Lord, as I was rather looking forward to our union," She finished, a light blush appearing on her pale cheeks.

Arthur blushed, not quite knowing how to respond to her bold statement, "Erm...Not to worry Princess, I shall return safely I assure you," He smiled sadly at her once more. "Anything you need, Agravaine shall take care of it,"

"Sire," Merlin came dashing around the corner, carrying his saddle bag looking extremely worried, "Are you ready to go?" He asked, rather rudely interrupting the couple's conversation.

Arthur turned to face Merlin and nodded who in return grimaced, before departing out of the castle and into the courtyard. Merlin was about to follow when Mithian called him back.

"You are not a fan of quests?" Asked Mithian politely to the warlock.

Merlin stopped, turning towards the Princess and shrugging simply.

"Not much of a fan of me, either are you?" The Princess sighed.

The warlocks eyebrows shot up in surprise at Princess Mithian's boldness. Was Merlin's discomfort with the King's new betrothed that obvious to an onlooker?

Mithian stepped closer to Merlin, searching for empathy in the servants bright blue eyes, "Come on, Merlin," She said lightly, "I'd have to be a fool not to notice."

Merlin frowned at the Princess, "I'm sorry if I caused offence." He said awkwardly.

"I'm sure you have, er, good reasons." She smiled sadly, looking up at the servant, "One thing I've learned since being here is that Arthur values your opinion above almost all others."

"Oh?" Merlin scoffed not quite believing Mithian.

Mithian laughed, "Even if he'd be the last person to admit it." She said kindly.

Merlin smiled back at her, "You can say that again." He admitted. As much as Merlin wanted to dislike the Princess, it was hard to. She possessed so many good qualities. She was kind, brave, gentle-

"I like him, Merlin. I really do." Mithian interrupted his thoughts, "I didn't expect to, but...well, he's a loveable person, isn't he? Underneath it all. All I ask is that you give me a chance." She finished, "Can you do that?"

Merlin eyes the Princess warily before nodding, almost ashamed at the hostile behaviour he had shown towards Mithian, "Yeah," He said dully and offered Mithian a small smile.

Mithian returned Merlin's smile, "Thank you," She said warmly, grasping his hand before turning and walking away from the King's manservant.

* * *

"Sire,"

Arthur, whom had just mounted his horse, looked down for the source who had uttered his title, before spotting the young solider. Merek, jogged down the steps towards the King, "_Merek_?" The King questioned, "What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting!"

The young soldier was dressed in full armour, and looking ready as if he was about to undertake the quest they were about to venture out on, "Sire," Merek panted, approaching the King. "Please, let me come with you,"

Arthur sighed, "I cannot Merek, you are too young, too inexperienced and in need of a rest." Arthur finished.

"_Please Sire,_ I know where I am going, I know my way around the tower, the village even! I could be of great use to you," Merek pleaded.

Arthur glanced around to his other Knights plus Merlin, who were already mounted. He frowned, contemplating the young soldiers offer, "You are not yet a Knight Merek," Arthur warned.

"He does know his way around the tower Sire," Merlin offered, seeing how desperate Merek was to accompany them, "He could be useful,"

Arthur sighed, "Very well, Merlin, saddle up a horse for young Merek and be quick about it,"

Merlin dismounted and headed back around to the Royal stables. Only minutes later did Merlin reoccur, leading chestnut thoroughbred behind him, in full saddle. The warlock smiled at Merek, who in returned grinned, placing his foot in the stirrup and swinging himself onto the horses back. Merlin then jogged back over to his own horse to remount.

Once the all of the Knights plus Merlin and Merek were rearing to leave, Merek turned to his King.

"You shan't regret this Sire," Merek stated boldly.

The King smiled nervously at Merek's bravery and the Knights galloped off out of Camelot. Cheers from the lower town were audible as they wished their King and his Knights the best of luck on their quest.

Merlin was worried about Arthur for what was to come. The warlock knew sorcery could only be fought with sorcery. He also knew that whatever they were to face, once they arrived at the tower, his magic would come in use, and the party in which they were travelling in was not as small as the closest of Camelot's Knights. The warlock would have to be careful he would not be seen...


	8. Chapter 8

Gwen's mouth was dry, her tongue was swollen and sore, she felt weak and dizzy. Her once soft lips were now dry, cracked and bleeding. She was dehydrated. It had been some time since the guards had last provided her with food and water. One could survive around two to three weeks without food, but without water, your fate is sealed in three days at the most. If their was enough moisture left in her tired body, Gwen knew she would be crying tears of sorrow, so instead she lay across the cold stone floor of her cell numb, thinking. She imagined tall waterfalls pouring down into clear lakes, she imagined wild streams forcing themselves through mountainous terrain, she imagined, wells, tankards of water, puddles, rain. Guinevere moaned. Outside of the dingy cell she heard footsteps. Seizing the opportunity she raised her head a few inches of the floor.

"_Help me,_" She croaked hoarsely, "_Please,_" Gwen needed water, and she needed it now.

The footsteps came to halt outside of the stinking cell and familiar voice spoke out to Guinevere.

"Aha, so the rumours _are_ true," Morgana Pendragon sneered down at her former handmaiden before her on the floor of the cells.

Gwen opened an eyelid, barely registering Morgana's presence, "_Water_," She croaked. "_I-I need...I need..._"

The image before the witch almost struck a match at her cold heart. Gwen did not deserve this. Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps Morgana could get Gwen on her side, use the her former hand maid to bring down Arthur. Morgana knew that without his precious Guinevere he was but a shell of a man. Morgana had been practicing elemental magic of late and had mastered it, her skills of the old religion matched all but Emrys.

The high priestess pulled out a silver goblet from her robes, "_Brimstream,_" Murmured Morgana. The silver cup filled with water, as her the witch's eyes shone gold, and unlocking the door to the cell with her magic, she pulled Guinevere into her lap, cradling her shoulders, "Gwen?" Said Morgana lightly, bringing the water to the weak woman's lips.

Gwen whimpered, feeling the water upon her lips. She began to sip the cool liquid slowly, savouring its taste. It felt amazing.

Morgana refilled the cup again and again, until her former handmaiden felt hydrated enough. "You did not deserve this," Morgana whispered tenderly into Gwen's ear. "Arthur was cruel to you. You have only ever been sweet and kind Gwen,"

Guinevere began to slip in and out of consciousness, confused as to what she was hearing. Why was Morgana treating her so nicely? It worried Gwen deeply, but she knew that she must play along so as not to be deprived of water once again.

"I'm the only one you can trust, Gwen," Morgana, stroked Gwen's hair, "Arthur doesn't love you...He never did, _nobody_ in Camelot does. It is only I that cares for you most," Morgana gently kissed Guinevere on the forehead. Morgana was not yet sure what she had planned for her former maiden yet but first she would upgrade her to finer quarters, Gwen did not belong in this dingy cell.

* * *

Arthurs hair had grown long. As he rode along the eastern side of the Mercian boarders he repeatedly blew his hair upwards out of his face, so as to keep it out of his eyes. The now rather long blonde strands of hair had not been cut in quite some time. After his father had become ill, it was Guinevere who had liked to cut his hair. A heavy weight fell upon Arthur's heart as he remembered the first time she had approached him about it. The two of them had been conversing about his fathers wellbeing in his chambers.

"_His state has not improved, it has been nine months-" Arthur stopped suddenly, realising Guinevere was not quite giving him his full attention, not looking the Prince in the eyes, but just above his bright blue orbs. "Guinevere?" He stopped. "Guinevere?!"_

_Gwen jumped, realising herself, that she had not been giving the Prince her full attention, "Sorry what?" _

_Arthur frowned, had what he'd been saying disinterested Gwen. "I'm sorry Guinevere, am I boring you?" He asked placing a hand on her shoulder and gently giving it a squeeze._

_"No, not at all," She said earnestly, placing her hand atop Arthur's on her shoulder and gently caressing his hand. "I was just distracted that's all"_

_Arthur chuckled, edging closer to Gwen, bringing his other free hand to stroke her face gently, "Distracted?" _

_Guinevere frowned at Arthur, examining his handsome face, she kissed his palm as he caressed her soft cheek and smiled at him, "Your hair Arthur," She chuckled, running her fingers through his overgrown fringe, which was pouring into his eyes._

_Arthur frowned, removing his hands from Guinevere, and fingering his hair gingerly, "What's wrong with my hair?" _

_"It's rather long Arthur," Guinevere said slowly, "Perhaps it is in need of a trim?" She chuckled at Arthur, who was now examining his hair in a mirror on the wall._

_"Nonsense," The King uttered, causing Guinevere to roll her eyes at the Prince._

Of course, Arthur had listened to the handmaiden. It was only after his hair had gotten so long that he had missed an attack from Percival whilst sparring with the bulky Knight and had received a black eye, much to Guinevere and Merlin's amusement.

_"Ow!" Moaned Arthur, as Guinevere dabbed not too gently at his swollen eye._

_"Sorry," Huffed Gwen, "But your hairs in the way," She tried to knock the fringe out of the way so she could gain better access to his eye. "Perhaps I could put a ribbon in the front of it so I could get to your eye properly-"_

_"No," Said Arthur flatly, "Guinevere, the crowned Prince of Camelot cannot wear ribbons in his hair," He moaned._

_"Well then perhaps," Sighed Gwen, placing her hands on her hips, "The crown Prince of Camelot, needs a haircut! You know this never would have happened if you hadn't of been so stubborn by keeping it long Arthur!"_

_The Prince grumbled, knowing that Guinevere was right._

_"Why don't you let me cut it for you?" She asked hopefully._

_"Hmmm," Arthur contemplated Arthur, he reached forward from his chair and grabbed Guinevere's waist, gently pulling her towards him so she stood in between his thighs. "I suppose I could let you give it a go," He bent his head down and pressed a light kiss to her abdomen, looking up at Gwen, eyes full of nothing but love._

_Gwen smiled, stroking his cheek gently. She then pulled out a pair of scissors from her apron pocket and began her slow work. Snipping away gently at the Princes hair, his hands still firmly on her waist._

_As the Prince began to bore, his hands began to run at her sides, travelling up and down. The sudden movement of Arthur's hands surprised her, and she slipped, cutting Arthur's fringe much too short. She gasped, horrified at her mistake._

_Arthur smirked, clearly pleased with the effect his touch was having on her, not knowing that her little gasp was not a gasp of pleasure, but a gasp of shock. He looked up into her deep brown eyes, expecting them to be filled with desire, and love for him, only to find they were staring in horror at his, what used to be, fringe._

_Guinevere placed a hand over her mouth, overwhelmed with shock, she bit her fist and began to giggle._

_Arthur's smirk dropped in horror at her expression, "Guinevere" He said slowly, "Please tell me you have not done something silly," He gently reached up towards his fringe, fingering the short hair gingerly. "I-It's...It feels short,"_

_Guinevere's body wracked with laughter, "A-Arthur, I'm so sorry," She laughed blushing brightly, "But you did knock me. Perhaps you should be more mindful of wandering hands when I am holding a pair of scissors my Lord. Here," She handed the crowned Prince a small hand mirror. _

_Arthur took the mirror from Gwen and stared at his reflection with horror. Not only did he have a large black eye, but he now had a large chunk of hair missing in his fringe, "G-Guinevere," He whispered, "What have you done?!"_

_Guinevere continued to laugh, "Oh Arthur, you do look silly,"_

_"Sort it out please! I shall be the laughing stock of the Knights!" The Prince exclaimed with horror. _

_"I am sorry my Lord," Gwen giggled, "But I could not quite reach to cut it straight, and you were distracting me," She scolded playfully._

_Arthur smiled, standing up and pulling Gwen flush against his chest, she stumbled in surprise, placing her hands upon his chest, and looking up at him innocently. "If I did not love you as much as I do, I would be very angry with you," He smiled, kissing her forehead adoringly. _

_"Oh?" Asked Gwen smiling as she wrapped her arms around Arthur's middle and buried her face into his open shirt, placing a soft kiss on his bare chest. _

_He began to stroke her long dark curls gently, "And if your hair was not so lovely, I would cut it all off for revenge," He released the tight grip he held the maiden in, and lead her back over to the chair he was previously occupying, sitting himself down and pulling Guinevere onto his lap._

_She protested at once, "Arthur no, I'm too heavy, it's not appropriate-" _

_"Nonsense, come here," Said Arthur firmly, holding Guinevere tightly to his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. Holding Guinevere was Arthur's favourite thing to do, or perhaps kissing her was, he was not quite sure._

_They sat their for a while in silence, Guinevere curled up in Arthur's lap, and Arthur cuddling her, and caressing her, just holding each other, glad to be in each others company. It was not often that they shared a moment like this._

_"Sire," Came the irritating voice of the King's manservant, bursting into the room unannounced. _

_Guinevere made to move, but Arthur held her in place, "Get out Merlin," He said lazily, stroking Guinevere's hair._

_"But Sire-Ohhh," Said Merlin, noticing Gwen in his lap, then he looked at Arthur and laughed, "Arthur, your hair!" Merlin hunched over, laughing at the Prince._

_Guinevere slowly peeled herself away from Arthur, standing up. "Merlin, don't be mean," She scolded lightly, smiling at the warlock but blushing furiously, clearly embarrassed in the intimate embrace the warlock had found her and the Prince entwined in. _

_"Merlin," Said Arthur, standing up and walking towards his manservant, "Do you value your job?" He asked lightly._

_"Y-Yes Sire," Cried Merlin, tears of laughter streaming down his face._

_"And tell me Merlin," The King said seriously, "Do you value your life?"_

_"Of course Sire," Merlin giggled, the Prince looked ridiculous, the middle of his fringe was cut extremely short, whilst the rest hung awkwardly around it. It reminded Merlin of curtains._

_"Then I suggest, you get out," Snapped Arthur, he walked closer to the warlock, "You breathe a word of this to anyone, and I will make your life a living hell," He finished menacingly. _

_"More than you do already you mean?" Challenged Merlin, smirking. _

_"Merlin?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"GET OUT!" Arthur roared._

_Guinevere walked around to the Prince, rubbing his shoulders reassuringly, " Come on Arthur, I'll cut a little more off around the edges and it won't look so bad," She said sitting the Prince down and placing a chaste kiss onto his head. _

It pained the King to think of those happy days, he would give anything to have them back. Despite Princess Mithian's arrival, there was still no denying that his heart yearned for Guinevere. He was starting to doubt his betrothal to the Princess. Merlin had been right. How could he marry someone he did not love? How could he marry someone that was not his Guinevere? Sometimes his heart would ache so hard for Guinevere, that he thought it would fall out of his chest. He was a shell of a man, as much as he tried to hide it. But Merlin saw right through his facade. Perhaps he should just forgive her and beg that she return to him. But would she want to after this? He had sent her away from her home, from the little family she had had left. Arthur didn't even know whether she was still alive. He couldn't bare to think that something awful had happened to her. It made him feel sick. Where was she now? Was she thinking of him like he always thought of her? When he had caught her with Lancelot, it had knocked his confidence, his pride. Arthur felt unloved, unwanted, confused. But what would have become of her if he had allowed her to stay in Camelot. Her reputation soiled, he doubted the people of the lower town would have treated her kindly.

"Sire," Sir Leon approached the King from behind, trotting up to ride beside him, "The horses and men are tiring, there is a town further up ahead where we can spend the night,"

The King nodded in agreement. The Knights rode into the small Mercian town in three separate groups so as to avoid drawing attention to themselves, each group setting themselves up at separate Inn. They were to meet at the town gates at dawn to set off on their journey once again.

Merlin and Arthur walked towards the town market together, and Merlin browsed the food stalls in order to feed himself and the King for the night.

"How about some of this?" Asked Arthur's manservant, tossing a loaf of seeded bread from his right hand to his left, asking for the King's approval.

Arthur shrugged carelessly, earning a reproachful sigh from Merlin.

"Fine," Huffed the warlock, " _You _choose something," Merlin stalked away from the stall and Arthur walked forward, picking up a loaf of plain bread and some cheese, he was about to look up to pay for the food when something caught his eye. The woman serving at the market was wearing a very familiar dress. It was a soft pale pink bodice, the sleeves were of a flowing white material, and there was a small red stain on the bodice, a stain that Arthur himself had made. It was Guinevere's dress. He knew it anywhere, he remembered accidently spilling his goblet of wine upon her, when she had surprised him with a passionate embrace in an alcove one evening, not having seen him for two weeks for he had been on a quest through the Valley of the Fallen Kings. Dare he look up? Was the figure standing in front of him indeed his Guinevere? Surely it had to be, who else would be wearing her dress? Palms sweating, and his heart racing, his eyes travelled up the pink bodice.

He was instantly disappointed, for his eyes did not meet that of the kind brown was he was expecting to gaze upon. His heart sank. Staring back at him were a pair of dull green eyes. Although fair, the maiden was, it was not his Guinevere. But why was she wearing Guinevere's dress? It was wrong, the maidens long white blonde hair, hung down straight, framing her pretty face. It should have been Guinevere's face.

"May I help you?" Asked the blonde maiden, smiling slightly at Arthur's intense stare, his eyes roaming all over the dress.

The King remembered when she had worn that dress on a picnic they had gone on, she had looked perfect. Although, the mood was ruined after his father had discovered the pair, and sentenced his beloved to death.

"Where did you get that dress?" Arthur breathed heavily, angry that anyone but Guinevere was wearing the baby pink bodice.

Merlin had re-entered the scene and was staring, utterly shocked at Arthur's completely inappropriate behaviour towards the young woman. He placed a hand on his friends servant, "_Arthur-_"

"_Where_ did you get that _dress_?!" Snarled Arthur through gritted teeth, looming threateningly over the young girl.

"Please...Leave me alone," She cried stepping back from Arthur, "I bought it, _please_ leave me alone!"

"Arthur _stop it_," Merlin commanded grabbing the King, before thrusting a bag of gold coins at the girl, "I'm so sorry about him," Cried Merlin hastily to the girl who was staring in shock at Arthur's sudden outburst, but also in admiration at the amount of gold the warlock had given her. "He's a little _simple_," Merlin chuckled, wrestling with Arthur who was still seeing red, "Likes clothes and things, reminds him of his mother. Come on simpleton," With one final yank Merlin managed to drag Arthur out of the market and back towards the Inn.

"_Get OFF OF ME MERLIN!" _Arthur shouted, throwing his manservant off of him.

"What's _wrong_ with you?!" Exclaimed Merlin angrily, "Why did you behave like that?!" Asked Merlin, becoming more concerned rather than angry. "You're the King Arthur! What's the matter?!"

Arthur was still fuming, angry at himself more than anything for letting his guard down, "_Nothing_,"He spat angrily, before stalking into the Inn, where he remained for the rest of the night.

As the King lay awake in the small cot the Inn had provided, questions circled around his mind. Why was that girl wearing Guinevere's dress? Did she steal it? Did she force it from her? The girl had claimed to have bought it, so did Guinevere sell it? Was Guinevere safe? Where was she? _Why_ did she have to betray him?

* * *

When Guinevere awoke, she was no longer on the floor of a cold, dark, cell. She was in a bed, and a soft one at that. There was no longer a dry burning sensation at the back of her throat, she almost felt well rested. Glancing around, she saw that she was in a tower room. The bed she was occupying was a grand one, four posters with blue velvet linen. The room itself was not all that large, it was circular, with just a wardrobe and a bedside table besides the four poster. Guinevere noticed that there was a jug of water sitting atop the bedside table along with a loaf of bread, a few slices of meat and some cheese. The sound of her stomach grumbling, caused her to reach out for the meal beside her, for it had been some time since she had consumed something solid. She took gratitude in the small comfort she was given by the still slightly warn bread and the fresh water. Guinevere glanced down at her form, although still slightly malnourished, she no longer sported her plum coloured travelling cloak and soiled tunic. She felt cleaner, and she noticed that someone had washed her, and redressed her in a simple long sleeved, pale blue dress. Her hand immediately went straight to her neck, making sure Arthur's ring was still secured around her neck. It was gone.

In that instant Guinevere panicked. Searching wildly with her eyes around the room, she spotted it next to the jug of water and visibly relaxed. Retying the leather cord in which held the ring, she knotted it around her neck, then pressed it to her lips, allowing the cool metal to sooth her them. A knock at the door brought her attention back to reality.

Morgana Pendragon entered, smiling at her, although her smile did not quite reach her pale blue eyes, "Gwen," She nodded at her former handmaiden and came to take a seat on the edge of Gwen's bed.

Gwen shifted back into the pillows, afraid of the witch. What did she want with her? Why was she treating her so nicely? What horror awaited her?

Morgana laughed softly, placing a hand on Gwen's leg, "Don't look so afraid, I mean you no harm," She smiled Gwen.

"W-What do you want with me?" Gwen stuttered, alarmed at the sorcerer before her. "L-Let me go!"

Morgana's smile twisted into a smirk, "Oh I can't have _that_," Morgana stood up, walking over to the windowsill and gazing down below at the sea, attacking the cliff in its rage.

Gwen frowned. "I don't understand. What do you want with me?" Gwen slid out of bed. The baby blue dress that she had been dressed in was far too long for her, pooling around her feet, it was clearly made for a woman much taller than that of herself.

The witch span around to face the maiden, "You mean a lot to Arthur, I want Arthur dead and Camelot's throne," She said simply.

Guinevere folded her arms, joining Morgana at the windowsill. "Arthur exiled me Morgana," She whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "I assure you, whatever you plan to do with me, it will not work. Arthur must care very little for me now," She finished sadly.

"You doubt his feelings?" Morgana asked, raising her eyebrows, "Tsk tsk, pity..."

"Let me go Morgana," Said Gwen simply, "Let me go and I'll-"

"Run to Camelot? Back to _Arthur_?!" Snapped Morgana, "Tell me Gwen, have I not shown you kindness bringing you up here? Have I not shown you mercy by _washing_ you, by _dressing_ you, _feeding_ you?!"

"All you have shown me is evil Morgana!" Gwen retorted angrily, "You have tried to kill me-"

"I have shown you _mercy_ Guinevere!" Morgana shouted in Gwen's face, "And you should do well to show me a little respect." Her eyes flashed gold, and Gwen flew back into the post of the bed, slipping into unconsciousness as her head hit the wooden post with crack.

Morgana sighed, walking up to the unconscious Guinevere and stroking her forehead, "Sleep well Gwen, and perhaps in the morning you'll come to better terms with the mercy I have shown you!"


	9. Chapter 9

Sir Gwaine lay awake on a soft pile of hay thinking. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. After departing from Merek a week ago, he had arrived safely back in Misericors, and was sulking. Well, that's what Ysmay claimed he was doing. In his opinion, Knights of Camelot do not sulk, therefore he could not be sulking. With still no plan to liberate the Slaves of Mercia, or to save Guinevere for that matter, he had hung about the little village, barely eating and brooding alone.

"Sir Gwaine?" Ysmay walked around the corner to where the Knight was sleeping, he was refusing to take advantage of Ysmay's hospitality any longer, claiming that he did not deserve it, and that he wanted to be left alone. Ysmay approached the Knight with caution, not wanting him to snap at her again. "I've brought you some lunch. I thought you might be hungry." She smiled, perching down on the soft hay beside him and offering him the tray of food.

"Not hungry," Muttered Gwaine, turning away from the kind faced woman.

"You've got to eat Sir Knight. Otherwise you shall weaken and then how will you liberate the slaves of Mercia?" She smiled at him, and pushed the tray onto the Knights lap encouragingly.

Gwaine sighed, picking up a small apple and began ripping into it hungrily.

"See, I knew you were hungry!" Ysmay pointed, poking Gwaine softly in the ribs.

Gwaine couldn't help but smile at Ysmay's attempts to cheer him up. He looked at her, studying her face. She was still beautiful, despite the age lines creeping beneath her eyes and mouth. Her chestnut hair was pinned up, but a few loose curls framed her face. "You've a kind heart Ysmay. People like you are hard to come by these days,"

Ysmay blushed, but smiled still, "You are too kind," She said quietly.

"No," Exclaimed Gwaine, "_You_ are to kind, offering me your food, your home, hospitality, despite the fact I was unsuccessful in rescuing your daughter, and the other slaves..."

"That was _not _your fault Sir Gwaine," Said Ysmay firmly, placing a hand on the Knight's shoulder. "You are a brave man Gwaine. But unfortunately, sorcery can only be fought with sorcery. Your attempts against the witch would have been futile!"

"Now what? What am I supposed to do?" Huffed Gwaine moodily.

Ysmay sighed at the Knight's low morale. "_Wait_. Wait for back up, for your King. He too, is a kind, brave man. _He'll_ know what to do,"

Gwaine nodded glumly, not only had he failed in saving Guinevere, but he had almost forgotten to look for Ysmay's daughter. Kind Ysmay who had travelled so far to seek his help, and he had failed her too.

* * *

The next few days went quite the same for Sir Gwaine. He hung around and waited for his King, much to his dismay. He felt helpless. After three consecutive days of waiting, a large brigade of red and gold on horseback cantered nobly into Mesericors. The villagers peered curiously out of their mud huts, confused to what all of the fuss was about. Gwaine and Borin, came jogging around the corner to meet the Camelot brigade.

"Gwaine!" Cried Arthur, smiling brightly at the Knight. "You're alive!" The King dismounted his horse and gave the Knight a firm hug, patting him roughly on the back.

Gwaine chuckled, "Just about," He nodded at the other Knight's, greeting a few of them. "Come, you must be hungry after your journey."

Later that evening as the Knights chuckled away to themselves, laughing with Ysmay and Borin, Gwaine sat alone brooding on a matter that was pressing on his mind. Merlin had noticed Gwaine's aloof behaviour and came over to sit beside the Knight.

"Gwaine," Merlin sat down, patting the Knight on the back, "What's troubling you? You look worried."

Gwaine turned to his trusted friend. He knew he must tell someone, and if he was going to tell anyone, it was going to be his best friend. "Merlin...There's something I need to tell you."

Merlin frowned, "What is it?"

Gwaine said nothing, contemplating on how to tell the warlock.

"You can tell me," Merlin pressed.

Gwaine sighed. "Before I left, you said to look out for her..." He started, fiddling with his fingers awkwardly.

Merlin's jaw dropped, "You found her?!" Merlin eyes were bright, desperate to see his friend again as he missed her so. "Where is she? Is she here?"

Gwaine shook his head sadly, "I-I found her Merlin." Gwaine said, his voice full of anguish and emotion. "S-She was-"

"She was _what_ Gwaine? Where is she?" Merlin pressed. Was Gwen safe? Why did Gwaine look so solemn? Had something happened? Was she alive?

"She's in the tower Merlin," Whispered Gwaine, "I-I couldn't rescue her...She looked so scared..."

Merlin placed a reassuring hand on Gwaine's shoulder, "It's alright Gwaine. It wasn't your fault..._Morgana_-"

"She wasn't captured by Morgana Merlin!" Exclaimed Gwaine, "She was taken by traders, branded, beaten, starved." Hot tears began to stream down Gwaine's face. "She was so cold...S-So broken and _thin_, like she hadn't eaten properly for months. I-I've never seen someone look so pitiful so-so..."

Merlin's eyes had began to water, thinking about the horrors his friend must have suffered. The sweet Guinevere, who had stuck up for him when he had first arrived in Camelot. The sweet Guinevere who had fancied him and had kissed him when she had thought him dead. The sweet Guinevere, who was now branded as a slave, suffering in some dark cell in a tower. "It's alright Gwaine, you don't have to-"

"I've _failed_ Merlin." Said Gwaine fiercely. "I failed Arthur, I've _failed_ as a Knight...And I've _failed_ as a friend, Merlin."

"We'll bring her back Gwaine," Said Merlin passionately. "I promise you, we'll bring her back!"

"We need to tell Arthur." Said Gwaine sadly.

Merlin thought for a moment about how one would approach the King on such a delicate subject. Arthur would go rushing into that tower tonight to save Gwen. But that would not save the slaves of Mercia, and it would probably get Arthur killed. Merlin's destiny was to protect Arthur. So was telling Arthur about Gwen really the best idea? It would knock the King's tactical mindset, distract him. No, they would have to wait a while. "I don't think we should tell him yet." Said Merlin quietly.

"What?!" Exclaimed Gwaine. "Why?! If you think Arthur won't go because of what happened then your wrong! I know Arthur, and I know Gwen. No matter what Gwen had done, Arthur would _never_ leave her to Morgana!"

"I'm _not_ saying he would!" The warlock protested. "But what's the point in telling him now, when he'll just go barging in there in the middle of the night? He'll kill us all! Or try to go _alone_! Morgana is too powerful. We can't distract Arthur from this mission. Hundreds of people's lives are at stake," Merlin finished sadly.

Gwaine was silent for a moment before he replied. "You surprise me Merlin." He said quietly. "You always think of the big picture, no matter whose life is at stake."

* * *

"I'm afraid Your Majesty, sorcery _must_ be fought with sorcery," Said the old Lord Doran, addressing the young King.

The morning after the Arthur's arrival, Ysmay had brought Arthur, Leon, Gwaine and Merlin to the Lord of the land to discuss a plan, seeing Lord Doran's advice on how to approach the tower.

"There _must_ be a way," Exclaimed King Arthur. "Sorcery is not necessary!"

Lord Doran spoke up loudly, interrupting the King. "Don't be so arrogant to think so! You are forgetting that in Mercia, the use of magic is _not_ illegal."

"I refuse to break my own decrees!" Snapped Arthur. "I cannot use something that I fight everyday against!"

"Then you are lost!" Boomed Lord Doran.

Arthur glared at the Lord before storming out of the manner in a fowl temper. Merlin began to trail slowly out of the room after his King, when a voice in his head stopped him.

_"Emrys..." _It whispered.

Merlin whipped around but saw only Lord Doran's manservant stood before him, looking at him intently. Was the manservant a sorcerer, a druid? Merlin began to walk slowly towards the boy frowning. He looked rather ordinary. A small pug nose, with cropped sandy hair, wearing a simple brown tunic and trousers.

"You?" Cried Merlin with surprise addressing the boy.

"You are known to all Emrys," He said slowly smiling, and drawing his sleeve as he did so, showing the druid symbol tattooed onto his arm.

"You're a druid," Stated Merlin stupidly, looking shocked and gawking at the boy.

"Indeed. And you, are Emrys." Said the boy, bowing lowly to Merlin. "It is an honour to meet you."

"W-What?" Looking surprised at the boys actions, as he bowed. "No-you don't have to do that-"

"You are the greatest sorcerer in all of Albion Emrys, It is only right to show my utmost respect for you." Said the servant, smiling at Merlin.

Merlin blushed. "Yes well-"

"Arthur cannot defeat the witch alone." The boy stated plainly. "Lord Doran is right, sorcery must be fought with sorcery."

"_I _know that, it's just Arthur is so-"

"How can you bare it? Saving his life on countless occasions, yet never gaining any credit for it?" The druid asked Merlin.

"Does Doran _know_ that you have magic?" Asked Merlin, pointedly to the boy.

"He suspects as much...Although, you're forgetting, magic is not banned in Mercia." The druid replied, smiling idly. "Your magic won't be enough to complete this mission Merlin. You will need help. The witch is in an extremely powerful position."

"You'll help me?" Asked Merlin hopefully.

"I'm afraid I cannot. My powers are not strong enough, I am untrained. But I know someone who can." Said the druid.

"Who?"

"The Lady Ostara." Stated the druid boy, "Everyone has a destiny Merlin, you of all people know that better than anyone..."

"And is it to be that my destiny is entwined with this 'Lady Ostara'?" Merlin asked, scratching his forehead and raising his eyebrows.

"It is not your destiny that is entwined as such. The fates seem to have decided that it is Sir Gwaine's." Said the boy to a very shocked warlock.

"Gwaine's?"

"It appears so." The boy walked over to the window and watched the brave Sir Gwaine, laughing and helping Ysmay chop firewood. "I am not just a druid Merlin, I am a descendent of an enigmatic being. I see fates, I feel them. I have foreseen this."

"You are a seer?" Asked the warlock, walking over to the boy curiously.

"Of sort."

"But you're so young so-"

The seer turned to face the warlock. "It is Sir Gwaine's destiny to liberate the slaves of Mercia Emrys. Thus doing so will prove to himself that of his bravery and humility."

"But why does he need to prove himself?" Asked Merlin frowning slightly. "Gwaine is the most loyal and bravest Knight I know!"

"He will prove it to _himself_ Emrys. The liberation will secure the future of Camelot. He shall save the future Queen by liberating the slaves and the Queen is to help bring peace and prosperity for creatures of all nature. Even people of _our_ kind..." The druid finished.

"So it _is _Gwen's fate to marry Arthur?" Merlin asked hopefully.

" Nothing is certain. But some paths are clearer than others..." Said the boy, whom spoke so wisely for someone that so young.

Merlin grimaced.

"But the golden reign _is_ a clear path, remember that. However, there are many smaller paths leading to the larger..."

"You speak in riddles-" The warlock grunted.

The seer smiled, "I speak the truth Emrys. Sir Gwaine, is but a small path leading to the larger. But it is you, Emrys, who must aid Sir Gwaine to fulfil his destiny."

Merlin sighed, "No surprise there then."

"You must find the Lady Ostara. Only she can help you now." The druid spoke quietly.

"And where can I find her?" Demanded the warlock.

"You must travel to the Mountains of Isgaard, there you shall enter into the realms of the Forest of Balor. You must go deeper into the forest than any man has ever ventured before, only then, when all seems dark, and hope seems lost shall you find the Lady Ostara." The seer finished.

Merlin groaned. "Well, that sounds easy enough." Said the warlock sarcastically. "I suppose I ought to get going..." Merlin made for the door after saying, "Thank you...For your help."

"_Emrys_,"

The warlock turned to face the seer.

"Good luck."

Merlin smiled at the seer, before leaving the manor. He stalked across the village in a slight huff. Why did the fates always have to point towards him? Why did _he_ have to secure everyone's destiny. It wasn't fair! He began to saddle up a horse and started to think of a way to tell the idea to Gwaine.

* * *

"Are you going somewhere Merlin?" Asked the brave Sir Knight, who was fast approaching the warlock.

"Doran was right." Said Merlin flatly to the Knight. "Sorcery can only be fought with sorcery, and whether Arthur chooses to believe that is up to him."

"But _you_ can't help..." Said Gwaine, patting Merlin's horse which he was now mounting.

"No, but I can find someone who can." Said Merlin, gathering his reins.

"Merlin, it's too dangerous." Gwaine cried. "With Morgana only a days ride away-"

"I don't have a choice! Hundreds of people's lives are at stake here Gwiane, Gwen's included!" Merlin protested. "Look I know where I'm going-"

"I'm coming with you-" The Knight stated plainly.

Merlin couldn't help but smile. His plan had worked, he knew that the Knight would not allow him to go alone and would therefore accompany the warlock. "What are you going to tell Arthur?"

"Well what were _you_ going to tell Arthur? He's not going to allow us to just go gallivanting off into the woods is he?" Said Gwaine earnestly.

Merlin grimaced, Gwaine was right. They needed to ensure Arthur would allow them to undertake such a quest, and more importantly, that he didn't come after them. "We can tell him we're scouting the woods for slave traders?" Offered the warlock.

Gwaine nodded. "We'll ride at dawn."

"Gwaine, we need to ride _now_."

* * *

Guinevere was sick of being locked in this room. It had been weeks since she had last seen the sunlight, since she had seen greenery, trees, fields, flowers, oh how she missed seeing flowers. All she saw here was grey. Grey walls, grey floors, grey sea, grey sky she would give anything just to see even the littlest flower right now. Even Morgana had grown bored of taunting her, instead she sent a servant in to bring to her food and water. Morgana thought Guinevere ungrateful for her hospitality, but Guinevere felt just as trapped in this room as she did in her cell. But at least she could see out of the window, small though it may be, at least it wasn't completely dark.

Although still very thin, Guinevere was beginning to regain her strength. Though her eyes were still dull and possessed large bags around them, her cheekbones still hollow and her hair still limp, she was a little cleaner than she was before. Morgana may have fed her, but it wasn't nearly enough a day, meaning she could not regain any of the weight she had lost. She felt like a child again, so small and helpless and would hold onto the ring that weighed so heavily around her neck, reminding herself of the sins she had committed. It was still very painful to think of what she had done, but as she could not preoccupy herself on anything else, there was little else to dwell on.

The former handmaiden had been dwelling a lot on her fathers death recently, how unfair it was, how unjust. She had began to wake up shouting for her father as well as Arthur these last few days. This room was beginning to take a toll on her, it was a whole new way of torture.

Guinevere walked over to the window and looked down. It would be a long way to fall. But what if she did just fall? Would she survive? She would have escaped to say the least. Who was left to care if she would survive? Arthur would never find out, there was no reason for him to leave Camelot, and to visit the tower of all places. What about Merlin? Would Merlin ever come looking for her? He had been a good friend to her, perhaps her best friend. Would he ever venture as far as here to find her? And Gwaine? Would Gwaine hear of her death? Would Elyan? Would Elyan bother to look for her, after the cold glare he had bore upon her on that horrid, fateful night in the throne room she doubted he would. How cold all of the Knights' eyes had been, how much they must hate her for doing such a terrible thing to their King. Still, she could not place her finger on why she had done it. She _had _felt overwhelmed though, and she _had _felt drawn to him and she _didn't _know why. _Did_ she still love Lancelot? No. Lancelot was a long time ago and her heart only had space for one man. But that man had exiled her. That man she would never see again. Oh what if she just jumped? Finished it all. After all, she did not have much to live for anymore. She was a slave to an evil sorceress, by jumping her life would probably mean something, she wouldn't be something to bribe Arthur off of the throne. Perhaps her death would allow him to be the truest King she knew him to be...

She slowly opened the window, the sea gale blew strong on her face, it was soothing, it had been a long time since she had breathed fresh air. Leaning over a little further she looked down below. Sharp rocks lined the bottom of the tower, the sea smashing fiercely up against it. Guinevere shuddered.

Suddenly she felt herself thrown roughly backwards against the wall. Something wet, warm and sticky trickled down the back of her head, she had fallen hard, and was bleeding.

"How _dare_ you try and escape!" Cried Morgana Pendragon, marching over to the window and sealing it quickly with magic, ensuring the former handmaiden would not be able to open the window and try to escape again.

"Let me _go_ Morgana..." Gwen whispered weakly. "_Please_-"

"I swear to god, if you try and escape again Gwen, I shall throw you straight back into that dingy cell where you can _rot_!" Morgana shrieked. "Do you understand?"

"Yes Morgana," She stuttered.

"I'm glad we have an understanding." Morgana smirked.

The door to the room opened once again, and in strolled none other than Agravaine Du Bois. Gwen gasped and before shouting, "Traitor!" She attempted to get to her feet, but was immediately stopped by the overwhelming sensation of dizziness which clouded her vision.

Agravaine smiled wickedly. "Ah Guinevere!" He addressed the maiden who was still slouched against the wall, clutching her head heavily in her small hands. "How delightful to see you again!"

Gwen glared up at Agravaine. "How could you do this?! To your own nephew at that!"

"_Silence_!" Boomed Morgana. "Agravaine, do you have what I asked for?" Asked Morgana slyly to the man.

"Yes my Lady, the plans for the siege tunnels," He said proudly presenting her with a large scroll.

Gwen's eyes widened in shock.

"You have done well Agravaine." Morgana gently stroked his cheek. "You must now return to Camelot quickly, before Arthur notices you're missing."

"My Lady, I fear Arthur is not as far away as we would like," Agravaine started. "He is but a days ride from here, he knows of your plans to build an army. He plans to attack." He finished, looking at Morgana worriedly, terrified he will be on the receiving end of her fury.

"_WHAT_?!" Screamed Morgana. "How could you be so careless?! Seething, she circled Agravaine her fists clenched, before slapping him hard in the face.

Agravaine winced. "Sir Gwaine's soldier, Merek got to Camelot but a week ago. Arthur plans to liberate the slaves of Mercia and destroy your plans."

"Where is he now?!"

"I believe he dwells in the small village of Misericors my Lady, should we intercept him?" Asked Agravaine eagerly.

Morgana was silent for a moment before saying slowly. "No...No we shall let him come to us..."

"My Lady, forgive me but is that wise?" Agravaine frowned.

"Oh I'll have Arthur as putty in my hands when he sees what I've got," She cast a wicked glance to a still shell shocked Guinevere on the floor. "I want Arthur Pendragon _dead_. And I shall get what I desire!"

Agravaine chuckled cruelly. "Good, my Lady, _good_. Your wisdom never fails to astonish me, for I am always your most loyal yet humble servant."

Guinevere felt sick, whether it was because of Agravaine's vile betrayal or how hard she had hit her head she was unsure, but she felt it all the same.

Morgana smiled. "Enough with the flattery Agravaine, I want you back in Camelot, no one must suspect anything of you."

The pair of them then departed the circular room, locking the door fast behind them, leaving Guinevere to process all what she had just heard. She needed to escape _now_. She had to warn Arthur, he was walking into a trap. If she was to escape she needed to do it fast. When the servant came in next to bring her a plate of food she would make her escape. But she would need to think of a careful plan...


	10. Chapter 10

"There it is," Merlin muttered quietly, "The forest of Balor,"

The warlock and the Knight had been travelling with little rest for just under three days now. They had finally reached the realms of the forest of Isgaard. It was massive. The forest spread for miles and miles, one was not able to see what lurked beyond them for it spread so far. The trees were tightly compact together making the entrance to the forest look dark and unwelcoming. There were rumours dwelling about the place of nests of Balorian spiders...

"You scared Merlin?" Smirked Gwaine, pushing his horse into the deep realms of the wood.

"No!" Cried Merlin defiantly. "It's just that...Well, you know the rumours about the Balorian spiders..." He trailed off, gulping loudly, deciding for himself that he definitely did not want to be attacked by any kind of spider, Balorian or not.

"Ah they're harmless," Gwaine brushed off, riding ahead of Merlin, chuckling to himself.

The warlock grimaced. "If you say so..."

* * *

"They've been gone for three days now Elyan, I want to send out a search party!" Said the King to one of his closest Knights.

"Sire, I don't think that's a good idea." Replied Elyan.

The two Knights were stood on the high ground of the village watching the occurrences before them. It was Sir Leon's idea, to have Arthur and the Knight's train up the men of the village in attempt to increase their numbers, when they set out to attack the tower and liberate the slaves within. The scene painfully reminded Arthur of when they had trained up the villagers of Ealdor, when he had first noticed his Guinevere. So much had changed since then. He was no longer an arrogant Prince, and she was no longer just a hand maiden.

"They're my men, I cannot abandon them!" The King, turned to look at the Knight earnestly.

"But Sire, we are to ride at dawn. If we are to be succeed in this mission my Lord...Forgive me but-I do not deem it wise." Elyan said slowly. Little did Gwaine and Merlin know, he had overheard their little plan to use sorcery in the fight that was yet to come. Sir Elyan had no quarrel with sorcery, just with the people who abused it. He had faith in Arthur's manservant, and he had faith in his fellow Knight. He did not want Arthur to disrupt their plans to aid their mission.

"I cannot leave them Elyan, they're not just my subjects...They're my friends..." Spoke Arthur quietly. "I cannot lose anyone else..." He whispered.

Elyan didn't have to ask to know that Arthur was talking about his sister. He was conflicted about his sisters exile. Part of him was furious at Gwen for betraying her King in a such a way. Another part of him was furious at Arthur, for exiling his only family. But most of all, he was furious with himself. He had not bothered to check on his sister before she left, he was too angry at her. How could she do such a thing?! And to their _King _at that! But as the weeks went on he began to think of his dear sister, and how much she had done for him. How she had to suffer alone, after the death of their father, how she had to suffer alone now...Was she alright? Had she warm shelter? Food? Water?

Then of course, came Elyan's possession, how he had been so foolish to drink out of the sacred druid well from the shrine. Gwen wouldn't have been as foolish. She was always cleverer than he. However, Elyan knew that Gwen still loved Arthur, and he her. But he also knew that Gwen would want Elyan to help Arthur in anyway that he could in her absence, so he stuck by his King's side and served as any other noble Knight would. "Arthur, Gwaine is a brave Knight, and although Merlin can come across as a little clumsy at times, he always finds a way out of things," Elyan reassured Arthur. "We cannot let this disrupt our plans Arthur. We _must_ ride at dawn!"

Arthur squirmed under the decision the Knight was forcing him to make before replying. "You're right Elyan." He looked up into the Knight's eyes. He had the same eyes as _her_, soft, brown, wise and kind, oh how very kind. "We ride at dawn."

* * *

_"What was that?"_

"Now who's getting scared!" Scoffed Merlin at the Knight, who was listening out intently, a grimace spread about his handsome face.

"Shhh!" Hushed the Knight. He strained his ears, desperately trying to listen out for danger.

_Snap_

Twigs snapped from all around the pair, taunting them in the shadows, confusing their senses. A deer? Or perhaps a fox?

Gwaine dismounted, glancing about the wood. Something was moving about the trees. "_Can you hear that?_" Gwaine whispered.

"Probably just a deer," Muttered Merlin, he too was now dismounting and leading his horse over to where Gwaine was stood, watching, looking out for any signs of danger. "C'mon _Gwaine_, some _brave_ Knight you are-"

_SCREEEEEEEECH_

Out of the trees, crawling so quickly, so suddenly, came an army of eight legged creatures.

Merlin gulped, horrified on what his eyes feasted upon before him.

Their eyes were black and beady, their pincers snapped forebodingly at the two men. They scuttled towards them, hissing and screeching. With slimy back bodies, and spindly hairy legs as they crawled closer and closer towards the two travellers.

"B-Balorian spiders," Gwaine stuttered drawing his sword. "Get behind me Merlin."

Merlin did not move.

"I said _get behind me_ _Merlin_!"

Merlin shifted to stand behind the Knight, standing back to back with Gwaine. The Balorian spiders began to close in the pair. Gwaine thrust his sword into one, slaying it instantly.

"There are too many of them!" Cried Merlin to Gwaine.

A spider reached forward, biting Gwaine nastily on the leg just upon his kneecap. "AGHH!" He screamed, a searing pain piercing his leg angrily demanded the Knights attention. Gwaine limped, swinging his sword at a few more approaching spiders. The poison of the spider had entered his blood stream. He began to feel dizzy. There was now double the amount of spiders, or was he seeing double? He wasn't sure, feeling sick, he crumpled to the floor, and all went black for the Knight.

Merlin turned to the approaching danger, before reaching out is hand and bellowing at the top of his voice; _"Lyft sy þe in bǽlwylm ac forhienan se wiðere!"_ The warlock's eyes flashed gold and the approaching army of Balorian spiders flew back and caught fire. Their screams could be heard for miles, throughout the forests, and perhaps even right into the caves in which dwelled among the mountains of Isgaard. Merlin desperately covered his ears and shut his eyes tightly at the piercing scream.

When the screeching quietened, Merlin slowly opened his eyes, and looked over to where his friend was laying wounded on the forest ground. "_Gwaine_!" He crawled over to the Knight and examined his wound.

The spider had pierced a clean hole through the Knight's knee cap. The warlock winced, almost feeling the Knight's sheer agony. He was in no fit state to walk, or even move. Merlin doubted his powers could heal such a wound. After all, the giant spiders had been creatures of magic of sort. He placed a shaky hand atop the wound, pressing onto it to stop the blood. But it mattered very little, for the poison had most certainly entered Sir Gwiane's blood by now. The Knight was dying, for Merlin did not possess such a power to heal the brave Knight.

"_Ic hæle þina þrowunga_,"

Nothing happened. The spell could perhaps cure an arrow wound, but was not strong enough to cure that of the magical poison that had inflicted Gwaine's veins. It was useless. His persistence was futile.

Merlin shouted in frustration, banging his fists upon the woodland floor. He was not going to lose another of his friends, he would not allow it. Merlin needed to _help_ fulfil Gwaine's destiny, not let him _die_! There was only one relatively logical option that made the most sense to Merlin.

_" O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!"_

Barely seconds after he shouted the incantation did the tops of the trees begin to sway and the force of the Great Dragon came down before the warlock.

Kilgharrah landed with a thud, onto the soft earth in front of Merlin, bowing lowly to the warlock before speaking. "You have summoned me young warlock." The dragon acknowledged wisely.

"I need your help!" Cried Merlin desperately.

"Naturally." Replied the dragon.

"I need you to heal Gwaine! He's been bitten by a Balorian spider, you have to help him! _Please_!" The warlock begged the dragon.

Kilgharrah sighed, he stepped forward. "The magic pulsing through the Knight's vein is indeed strong."

"You can heal him though?" Pressed the young sorcerer.

"I believe it is in my power." Kilgharrah bowed his head and breathed softly upon the still Knight, who in return stirred slightly. "Give him a few hours young warlock, and he should recover." The dragon eyes Merlin wearily for a moment, when he was silent for a short while.

Merlin spoke up. "Listen Kilgharrah, there's another thing-"

"What else do you require of me?" The dragon asked suspiciously.

"I need you to take us to the Lady Ostara." Said Merlin boldly.

Kilgharrah studied the warlock. "I feared you would ask that of me."

"_Can you_?!"

"Unfortunately, I cannot. This time you ask too much Merlin. This is a task you and the young Sir Knight must undertake alone. It _is_ his destiny after all." Said the Great Dragon.

"_Look,_ we don't have much time! Arthur will be riding out any day now-"

"I cannot young warlock!" Sighed the Dragon, beginning to become frustrated with the young sorcerer before him.

"_I command you_!" Shouted Merlin. What was the Kilgharrah playing at? Did he not want them to succeed? If they didn't get help soon Arthur would fall prey to Morgana, and it was _his _destiny to ensure that Arthur became the greatest King that ever lived, and brought peace and prosperity over Albion. How was he supposed to do that if Arthur went and got himself killed?

The Dragon roared angrily, "How _dare_ you abuse your power! How _dare _you! I shall play no such part in your quest! How _dare _ you insult my kind! You are becoming arrogant young warlock! Thoughtless!" Kilgharrah blew hot, red flames onto a tree above Merlin, who in turn dodged. He took off flying off in rage into the sky, the tree still singeing feebly above the warlock.

Merlin scowled, he would have to wait for Gwaine to awake to continue their mission. Perhaps Kilgharrah was right. Maybe he did expect too much of the Dragon. _Was_ he becoming thoughtless? Arrogant even? His judgement was so clouded by Arthur's safety all of the time it was hard not to!

It was some time before the former wounded Knight awoke, he lay still upon the forest floor, surrounded by leaves, pebbles and earth. Merlin perched beside him all the while, waiting and watching while he brooded.

The sky was beginning to darken when Gwiane stirred. "What happened?" He groaned, pushing himself off of the ground with his elbows, into a sitting position.

"We were attacked...By Balorian spiders." Said Merlin, as he began to gather sticks to make a fire for the night. They could not travel further into the realm of the deep woods this late into the night, it was too dark.

Gwaine frowned slightly, "I remember...Being bitten." He immediately touched down to his knee cap, where there was but a small scar. "Hmmm..." He studied the mark. "I remember it being a little more serious than this," Chuckled the Knight at his knee cap, which ached, but bore no sign of serious injury.

Merlin hesitated for a moment, "It was merely a scratch."

"Ah, see! Didn't I tell you those Balorian spiders were harmless!" Laughed Gwaine, standing up to walk over to where the warlock had situated himself, scarping two flints together in an attempt to light the fire he had built. "Here, let me." Gwaine offered.

Merlin handed the flints to Gwaine, allowing him to light the fire. "If we leave at first light tomorrow, without rest we could reach the middle of the forest by sundown."

Succeeding in lighting the fire Gwaine, warmed his hands atop the flames, "And this is where the so _called figure of sorcery_ can help us in our quest?"

Merlin spoke slowly. "It is rumoured that a figure of such power dwells in those parts..."

Gwaine snorted. "Indeed so... " Said the Knight, taking in the appearance of that of the warlock. " You've changed Merlin,"

"I've grown up." He replied simply.

Gwaine grunted. "_Alas!_...Don't grow up too fast Merlin..." He finished solemnly.

"But I _am_ grown up Gwaine." Merlin protested. "Look at me, I've faced as many horrors as Arthur himself, perhaps even more so than yourself..."

The Knight grimaced. "And it has made you all the better person! All the same, you should try not to worry all the time,"

"What's there not to worry about?" Merlin sulked. "Camelot's always under threat, Arthur's life's always at stake, now _Gwen's_ life is at stake and the entirety of the slaves-"

"What about _you_ Merlin?" Asked Gwaine, pulling out a blanket from his saddle bag and an apple with it. He settled down against a tree, close to the fire and took a large bite out of his apple.

"What d'you mean? What about me?" Asked the warlock, his brow furrowing slightly.

"What do you do when you're not running around after Arthur?" Laughed Gwaine. "You're very secretive these days Merlin, I'm beginning to think there's a woman involved..."

"When do I have the time to meet any decent women?" Scoffed Merlin. The only woman Merlin had ever felt anything for was the young and sweet Freya, who had dies so unjustly, simply because she had been cursed with magic. And perhaps, once upon a time, the sweet Morgana, before she realised the true extent of her powers. She had been so sweet, so gentle, so fragile. Uther Pendragon had corrupted that, slaughtering those of their kind, making them terrified to speak out against him. Merlin had not shed a tear for Uther's passing. Although now, his heart was only full of hatred for the witch, it was almost as if he had separated the past Morgana with the present, preserving her memory as a gentle soul, to that of her corruption.

Gwaine contemplated this for a moment, "A few of the kitchen maids are quite fair," He smirked.

Merlin chuckled. "Audrey, is very protective over her staff Gwaine."

Gwaine snorted loudly. "Even Audrey can't resist _my _charm!"

The servant sighed, "If you say so," He yawned, before taking out his own blanket and covering himself, "Night Gwaine," He whispered, barely audible enough for the Knight to hear him.

"Night Merlin," Came a soft reply, and the two travellers drifted off into a long and restful slumber.

* * *

_Knock knock. _

"Come in," Said Guinevere cautiously, standing behind the door, a large metal jug raised above her head, ready to strike at any second. She had been thinking all day on how exactly she could escape this wretched prison, and had waited a while until the opportunity arose. Now it had, she was not going to miss it. Yes, it was dangerous, but by staying here would only ruin Arthur's attempt to take down Morgana, and Gwaine's attempt to free the slaves. She had to get out of the way.

A monotonous male voice came from behind the door. The guard swung the door open. "Food for the prisoner-AGH!"

Guinevere struck the guard around the head, knocking him firmly unconscious to the ground, where he fell in a heap on the stone paving slabs. She bent down, and retrieved the dagger hanging at the guards hip. Peeping her head out of the now open door she looked left, then looked right. The coast was clear. Tiptoeing quietly down the corridor, she came to a flight of stairs. Voices were audible from down below, but this was the only escape route. Perhaps she'd have the strength to wound the guards surrounding the staircase? After all, she was the daughter of a blacksmith, she did possess some skill in weaponry.

Slowly, and steadily, she made her way carefully down the stone spiral stair case. Three guards were laughing and jeering about something or other. Acting impulsively she swung around the corner and shutting her eyes tight, stabbed one of them swiftly in the back. He screamed loudly and fell to the floor.

The other two guards rounded on her angrily, but before they had a chance to attack her, she was running as fast as she could down the corridor. She ran, and ran as fast as her petite legs could carry her. She could see the entrance to the tower, it was coming closer. Only seconds from it now! _She was going to make it_. Tasting the fresh air and embracing it into her lungs, she ran out into the open. _She was free._

Or so she thought.

"Not so fast!" Smirked a cruel female voice behind her.

Guinevere turned to face the witch, her eyes resembling that of a frightened doe.

Morgana's eyes flashed gold and a strong force wrenched Gwen back inside the entrance hall. She stalked over to Guinevere's body, now crumpled in small heap on the ground. Kicking her hard in the ribs, so she now lay on her front, Gwen stared up at her, the former handmaiden's eyes laced with fear.

"_Morgana_-" Gwen whispered, utterly terrified.

"What did I tell you would happen, if you ever tried to escape again?" Sneered Morgana sadistically.

"_Please_-"

The witch scoffed. "I have shown you enough mercy Gwen!" She bent down, taking hold of the leather cord around Guinevere's neck possessing Arthur's betrothal ring, and wrenched it off of the maiden.

"_NO!"_ Guinevere screamed, almost as if one of her limbs had been ripped off, not just a mere piece of jewellery. But that ring was the only thing that woke Guinevere up in the mornings. The only thing that gave her the strength to eat, to live. Without it, she was nothing. Without it, she felt nothing.

Morgana thrust the ring out into the rocky terrain surrounding the tower. She kicked Guinevere again, this time in the side of the head.

Struggling to see through blurred vision, Guinevere tried to sit up, tried to fight Morgana. But it was no use. Morgana was so strong, and she so weak, and in such terrible pain. She allowed herself to be carried lifelessly to the original cell she was being held in, and thrown to the floor. The former handmaiden lay still, whimpering.

"_Rot in hell Guinevere!"_

* * *

Morgana was furious. How dare Gwen betray her again? How dare she try to escape! After all the kind hospitality the witch had granted her, she still tried to run back to her beloved Arthur. The Arthur which had exiled her! Morgana smirked. Of course, Gwen was not aware that her betrayal wasn't her fault. That it wasn't her fault that she had suffered so. It was Arthur's. The witch smiled wickedly.

_Knock Knock_

"Enter," Called the Lady Morgana, coldly and callously.

"My Lady," Claudius addressed the Lady Morgana nobly.

"Claudius," Morgana studied the trader, "What news?"

"Milady, i-it is...A delicate subject to address..."

"_Go on_,"

Claudius twiddled his long pale thumbs about nervously. "I cannot fail to notice that the slaves have not been responding as suspected to your _methods_ of training..."

"You doubt my methods Claudius?" Snarled Morgana angrily, whipping her matted mane of dark black hair over her shoulders.

"I-It's not that I doubt them my Lady, more that I...Question them." Claudius, stroked his goatee thoughtfully, as he paced about the Lady Morgana's chambers.

Morgana scowled, standing up and walking over to take a seat on the windowsill. "You have grown weak Claudius." The witch said menacingly, glaring at the tall, dark man before her.

"I-"

"These past few weeks, you have feigned loyalty out of fear! You do not seek your own power for yourself! Merely your _wealth_, your decadent lifestyle," Morgana scoffed. "_You are weak_."

Claudius scowled at the Lady Morgana. "Have I not provided you with an army Morgana?" He walked closer to the lady, scowling.

"Indeed you have. And a _weak_ one at that!" She screamed in fury, allowing a few of the windows in the chambers to smash un-accordingly. "My entire army is _malnourished_ Claudius! How am I to overthrow Camelot with an army of skin and bone?!"

Claudius pondered upon this for a moment, before speaking bravely out. "Have you not done it before with an army of the dead? Many stories come to pass this tower, and some rumours speak that you once tried to overthrow Camelot with an immortal army..."

Morgana thought for a moment before replying to the bold confession. "Indeed I did...But as rumours told you, I was unsuccessful!"

"You are a _witch_ my Lady, _blessed_ with magic. Say, why not use it to _enchant_ the slaves? Build them up, _make _them more powerful!" Claudius begged.

"I do not possess such magic," Morgana looked down to the floor, still thinking.

"But you could..."

"What do you mean?" Snapped Morgana to Claudius. "What do _you _know of magic?! You are nothing but a mere slave trader, _now get out of my sight!_"

Claudius obeyed, not wanting to say anymore to offend the Lady Morgana. He left her to brood in her own thoughts.


	11. Chapter 11

Arthur was unsure. Well, that was no surprise, he was always unsure of the decisions that he was making nowadays. Decisions about Camelot's allies, decisions on who to marry, decisions on who to befriend, decisions, decisions, _decisions_. It drove the poor King senseless. And yet, once again, he was being forced into making another decision, for his dearest friend-although he would never admit it-still had not returned back to the village in which Camelot's finest were inhabiting temporarily.

"Morgana's forces are growing stronger by the day Sire," Said the bold Sir Leon, wisely to his King. "If we do not act soon I fear Morgana will succeed in building this army."

"I can't leave them." Said Arthur quietly. "We need to-"

"_Sire_," Said Leon firmly. He had known Arthur since he was a boy and had always respected the King, he was a great friend. "Forgive me, for my boldness, but we cannot wait, we must ride at nightfall if we are to hold any chance in succeeding in faltering Morgana's plans."

Arthur considered the Knight for a moment. He knew he was right. If they were to have any success, then they must ride at nightfall. There was no other option, as much as the King hated to be proven wrong, or leave his friends, this had to be done.

The bold Sir Knight spoke up again in amongst the King's long pause, "I believe if we ride at nightfall, we can take Morgana by surprise, knock out the reinforcements of the tower and invade undetected. Perhaps then we can attack from the inside out."

It was a strong battle plan. Leon was always good at coming up with strong battle plans. Arthur thought of Merlin and Gwaine. Where were they? Were they safe? What were they playing at? He _needed_ them and they had left him. Just like everyone else. Why did everyone always have to leave him? Did they hate him that much? Was he a bad King? He studied the Knight before him before nodding reluctantly. "Very well," Arthur sighed heavily. "We ride at nightfall, round up the Knight's, the villagers and soldiers, prepare them for the worst..."

Leon bowed to his King before walking off to do the his bidding, leaving Arthur, to look out over the large forest surrounding the small village.

He shook his head wearily, slowly walking after Sir Leon through the village. People greeted him, and smiled when he walked amongst them. They were risking _their_ lives for _him_, and he wasn't even their King! Some of these villagers were going to die for him, their lives would end, their families would mourn them...Was he really worth all that?

Grimacing slightly, he tried to smile and wave at a few of the passing villagers, making his way swiftly to Ysmay's mud hut, where his armour was currently being stored. He scoffed, the armour was unpolished and dirty, but he didn't really care, he did not want Ysmay to go out of her way and polish it herself. Merlin had always been a lousy servant, but he had never been a lousy friend. If Merlin did not return, he would have to get a new servant. His eyes turned fearful at the thought of having to be served by George, the flamboyant and all too eager young boy who had served him when Merlin was absent beforehand, for the rest of his days.

Praying for Merlin and Gwaine's safe return, he attempted to throw on his armour when a reassuring hand stopped him from doing so.

"Here, let me," A kind voice from behind him said.

"Ysmay," Arthur's face possessed a ghost of a smile, "You are too kind. You have shown me such great hospitality which I do not deserve..."

"Nonsense," Ysmay scoffed. "You are a great King, Arthur, even a blind man could see that, and tomorrow you will liberate the slaves of Mercia, with my daughter included!" She fastened his armour from the back.

Ysmay's hands reminded him of Guinevere's soft touch. Even her words to him after the jousting tournament still had an influence on him today. He would no longer take kind hospitality for granted just because he was royalty. He had shown a great deal of humility after falling in love with Guinevere. "One can only hope that we shall succeed." Arthur said quietly.

"You doubt your own plans my Lord?" Asked Ysmay, frowning slightly, turning the King around, to ensure that the front of his armour was secure.

"We all doubt ourselves at times like this Ysmay." Said Arthur, grimacing sadly.

"You should not doubt yourself Sire," Ysmay pressed, taking Arthur's hand and squeezing it tightly. "You are a great King." She whispered.

Arthur sighed. "Thank you Ysmay," He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Your kindness will not go unrewarded. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, Camelot will always be in your debt, all you have to do is ask." The Kind remembered saying a similar thing to Guinevere many years ago, when were father had been unjustly kill. The death of Tom the blacksmith, is one of which will always hang heavy on his heart with guilt.

Ysmay looked a little taken aback, "I-I don't know what to say..."

"It's the least I can do." The King smiled faintly.

"P-Please just..." A small tear escaped Ysmay's kind ever so slightly aged eyes, "Just bring my daughter back to me...That is all I ask."

"Very well," Arthur smiled, and made to leave the mud hut.

"Good luck," Ysmay called after the sad King, offering him a small wave. "_I have faith in you_," She said quietly, more to herself than to the King.

The King nodded nevertheless, and departed the warm interior of the home. He walked over to the other Knight's who were now mounting their horses in preparation to ride for the tower. The moon was beginning to rise, and the sky beginning to darken. Camelot's finest Knight's sat upon their horses, beaming proudly at their now approaching King, red cloaks, flowing proudly in the wind. The villagers too, were looking excitedly towards King Arthur, happy to help a good man liberate their people.

The King mounted his horse and nodded at each of the Knight's in turn. Merlin and Gwaine's absences were painfully noticeable to Arthur.

"Do not worry Sire," Sir Leon reassured the King, "They'll be back, I'm sure of it."

Arthur nodded, eyes full of emotion, before leading the small army out of the village, out into the dark night towards the Tower of Mancipium.

* * *

"We've been this way before," Said Gwaine tiredly, swinging his sword around in boredom, rather than in case of attack. They hadn't so much as seen a butterfly, let alone potential danger.

The two men had been travelling for a total of four days now, and both seemed to be lost. The warlock and the Knight _had_ been _riding_ through the on going forest, but the trees had become to dense, snapping at the pair, and wrenching at their clothing, so they had dismounted, and tethered the beasts to a tree while they walked on.

"We can't have!" Exclaimed the warlock, exasperated. "We've come from the complete opposite direction to what we did before!" He glanced around the forest. Sure enough, imprinted in the mud ahead, was a familiar footprint. Merlin walked over to examine the footprint, measuring his own foot within it. "Ah..." He trailed off. The footprint fit his own. They had been going around in circles.

"_Great!_" Exclaimed the Knight sarcastically. "We're lost in a forest, alone, without horses, and _nobody_ knows where we are. This is _brilliant_!" He threw himself onto the soggy ground, leaning up against a tree, leaving his sword discarded on the ground beside him.

Merlin frowned. They had been gone too long. Arthur must have noticed. Had he sent a patrol after them? Would they be found? Morgana's army would be growing stronger by the day, she would almost be ready to attack their undefended kingdom. It certainly did not help that Merlin and Gwaine were lost in this soggy, dark, realm. They had been in this state for two days. The Knight and the warlock were famished and dehydrated, there was no wildlife for them to hunt in this area of the forest, it was too dark and soggy, for the likes of rabbit and deer and they were so horribly lost.

Lost.

_Lost_.

Something in Merlin's brain clicked.

_" You must go deeper into the forest than any man has ever ventured before, only then, when all seems dark, and hope seems lost shall you find the Lady Ostara"_

Merlin sat up and all of a sudden, just as he did so, a pale white light shone through the trees. The servant squinted, the light appeared to becoming from a cave. A cave that he had not noticed before. The warlock stood up, his legs shaking slightly as he began to walk towards it.

Gwaine frowned at his friends sudden movement, "Merlin what are you-"

"C'mon!" Cried Merlin excitedly, grinning from ear to ear as he ran towards the cave entrance. The light was getting brighter and brighter from the cave and he could feel the sharp pulsing of his magic running through his veins. The magic surrounding this cave was powerful indeed. With Gwaine close on his heels, the two of them came to halt at the cavern's entrance. Merlin beckoned the Knight forwards into the cave, following the light.

The sound of trickling water invaded their senses as they walked into the cavern. It smelt fresh, but damp, and the rock beneath their feet was wet and cold. As they walked further into the cave, the sound of water became more audible, venturing further, the sound of noisy water attacked their ears.

"Merlin! What is this place?!" Gwaine shouted, his hands over his ears, in a determined attempt to spare his ears any damage from the loud noise.

Merlin however, seemed unaffected by the sound of gushing water, and continued into the cave as Gwaine followed. "This way,"

The two continued on towards the sound, and as they approached the corner, they located the source of the deafening sound.

Masses and masses of water poured down the cavern's exit, seeping into a lake. There was no solid ground beyond the water, just a lake, and a pebbly shore beyond.

Merlin's magic felt stronger here, the lake was somehow drawing him closer, and he had the bizarre sudden urge to jump in it. He wanted to soak himself in the water, purify his sins in the crystal lake...

_"Careful Emrys," _

A voice rang out loud inside the warlock's head. He looked around, attempting to locate the source. Nothing.

"_Come_,"

"I think we need to go through the waterfall Merlin!" Gwaine shouted, his hands still over his ears. "It's the only way! We'll have to swim!"

"_Listen to the Strength Emrys,"_

Merlin nodded at the Knight, who had already began to walk through the waterfall, delving into the lake, and shortly afterwards, remerged for air.

The Warlock followed. As soon as the water hit him, a feeling of bliss covered his body, seeping through his veins and into his very soul. He felt pure, as if his slate had been cleaned of every worry, doubt and regret he had ever carried within him. The crystal water lapped over his body as the lake claimed him as its own. The warlock swam gracefully towards the Knight, who was sculling gently on the water, he too in a state of bliss and purification.

All of a sudden, Merlin was pulled under the water and starved of oxygen, his vision going black.

"Merlin!" Gwaine cried. He swam desperately to where his friend had been pulled under the water. There was no sign of him. Merlin had vanished. Gwaine dunked his head under, scanning under the water for any sign of the King's manservant. He had vanished. How was this possible? Not seconds ago had Gwaine seen him indulging himself in the pleasant water. "_Merlin!_" He screamed, He would not lose another friend. He would not abandon Merlin like he had abandoned Gwen. "_HELP!"_

Then there was light. A bright white light arose from the water, blinding everything as it did. Filtering out the very darkness of the earth. Blinded by the sheer strength of it, the Knight covered his eyes, squinting through his fingers. The luminosity purified everything in its path, and from it emerged a figure. A woman. Was this the magic that the servant had been seeking to find?

The light began to fade, and in its presence left the woman floating softly above the clear lake.

Gwaine gasped, treading water desperately, mesmerized by the magic before him. "Who...what?" The Knight whispered.

The Lady was beautiful. Dressed in all white, she floated gracefully towards the Knight. Her slivery hair flowing gently behind, and her bright sapphire eyes were gazing intently into the Knight's brown ones. She reached out a pale hand to the Knight. Her skin was flawless, almost as if it were encrusted with stars. Her mere presence brought a fresh, dazzling atmosphere to all that surrounded her.

Gwaine took the Lady's hand tentatively, and she pulled him above the water, so he stood atop of it. The Knight's jaw dropped. He was walking on water. He looked at his feet, which were stood firmly on top of the crystal waters, then looked at the woman before him before he spoke. "W-What-H-How-I-I,"

The woman smiled at him gently, her perfect pale pink lips curving so very slightly. Her beauty was somewhat unnatural, so pure, so fresh and new. Barely comparable to that of the first blooming snow drops in late winter, but even they did not come close to her splendour. "_Brave, brave Knight,_" She whispered meaningfully.

Gwaine, still clearly shocked stumbled backwards. "Who-I...I don't-" He stuttered, completely gobsmacked at the sorcery happening before his eyes.

"_Be not afraid brave Knight," _The Lady spoke softly. A blinding white light shone from behind her, illuminating her, making her seem perhaps even more beautiful than before.

"Who are you?" Gwaine stammered, still stumbling at the magic before him.

The woman laughed sweetly. "_I am your key, brave Knight. For you are the one who's destiny is entwined with I..."_

"What d'you mean?" Gwaine frowned, getting to his feet, still unsure of whether the water would hold him or not. "Where's my friend? Where's Merlin?!"

"_Your friend is safe, I assure you_," She spoke softly, reassuring the Knight gently.

"What have you done with him?!" Cried Gwaine, "_Give him back!_" Gwaine shouted, attempting to run towards the Lady floating in front of him, but a barrier of light intercepted his attempt and he staggered back once again. Frustrated, he spoke firmly this time. "_Who are you_?!"

_"Why I am the Lady of the Dawn of course, I am Ostara, Lady of the New, and the Lady of Life. I am ...The Lady Ostara." _The white woman laughed sweetly once more.

Gwaine frowned, "What do you want with me?" He stood steadily, and studied the Lady Ostara.

"_I believe it is more of the question, Sir Knight, of what you want with me?_" She finished, taking a step towards the Knight.

"I-I want nothing, I seek nothing-"

"_You seek help on your mission to liberate the slaves of Mercia do you not? To fulfil your destiny, Sir Knight,_" The Lady Ostara, looked at the Knight intensely, making Gwaine extremely uncomfortable.

"How did you-" Gwaine faltered. "What do you mean my _destiny_? There's no such thing, I don't believe-"

"_You must believe. The future of Albion relies on a series of decisions brave Knight and it is you, who must make this one,_"

"W-Why?" Gwaine was confused. What did the future of Albion have to do with him? He was just a peasant Knight. Nothing, no one of any importance. What could _he_ possibly do to change the future of Albion?

_"It is your destiny to liberate the slaves of Mercia." _ Began the Lady Ostara. "_Arthur's attempts shall be futile against the witch,_"

"And what makes you think mine will be any better?!" Argued Gwaine. He was no King, sure he was handy with a sword, but he was not Arthur.

"_It is my destiny to aid you on this mission Sir Knight. People are not put upon this earth to serve one another. People are not to be slaves to one another. People are placed upon this earth to worship it, to cherish it, to live in peace and prosperity looking after it!" _The Lady Ostara spoke passionately. _"The old religion teaches mankind to worship the earth, to look after it-_"

"The ways of the old religion are evil!" Shouted Gwaine passionately. "Can you not see what Morgana's done?!"

"_It is not the ways of the old religion that are evil, only the hearts of men_!" Spat Ostara angrily. "_Men, who claim land as their own, who hunt the lands' riches, who fight one another for their own materialistic purposes!"_

Gwaine faltered for a moment, listening carefully to the woman hovering before him.

"_This lake,_" She began slowly, "_This lake is not of water, it is of my tears. O' how I've wept over the destruction of this land! How men have enslaved one another, have brutally treated those with magic and discriminated against them_!" A small tear escaped the Lady Ostara's eye. "_It is time slavery is abolished and discrimination towards those who practice magic with it! Your decision and bravery will help unite Albion in peace and prosperity. For by doing so brings back a bond that shall stay strong and shall be remembered for thousands of years to come."_

"I'll never bring back magic!"

"_And the slaves?" _Ostara whispered emotionally. "_Would you leave your own kinf to suffer and die?!"_

"But how can _I _liberate the slaves?" Asked Gwaine, frustrated. "If Arthur's attempts are futile, then what are _mine_ in comparison?"

"_Do not worry brave Knight,"_ The Lady Ostara closed her palms together softly. When she reopened them, there lay a small silver vile in a clear glass bottle. She handed the vile to the Knight boldly. "_Here,_"

Gwaine took the small vile in his hands, studying it carefully, "What is it?"

"_Tis' but the soul of a star, Sir Gwaine," _The Lady Ostara replied. "_Where there is suffering, where there is brutality, the soul of a star shall neutralise it, purify it..."_

"And how do I use it?" Gwaine spoke slowly, cautiously.

"_When the time is right, you shall know how,"_ Ostara smiled. "_I must leave you now Sir Knight. Twas' but an honour meeting you. I feel I shall see what more of your kind once more, than perhaps something much greater..." _She finished.

"What do you mean? Please! Don't go! You talk in riddles I need your help!" Gwaine protested desperately.

The Lady Ostara laughed a sweet tinkling laugh, "_Keep your friends close brave Knight, for they are as much your destiny as the stars are mine," _And with a flash of light, the Lady Ostara vanished from thin air.

* * *

Sir Gwaine remembered very little of the water giving way beneath his feet and being washed up on a pebbly shore, but when he awoke, Merlin was peering over him, wearing a concerned expression across his young, and slightly hollowed face.

"Gwaine?" Asked the warlock, tentatively shaking the Knight's shoulder. "Gwaine? Are you alright?"

Gwaine's eyelids fluttered open, and slowly but carefully he pulled himself into a sitting position. He remembered what had happened instantly. "Where is she?" Gwaine glanced around frantically. "Where did she go?"

"Gwaine we have to go," Merlin said slowly. He had a good idea what had happened back there and knew that they needed to act fast if Gwaine's destiny was truly to liberate the slaves of Mercia.

Gwaine studied Merlin closely. "Y-You knew?"

Merlin shifted awkwardly.

"Y-You knew the Lady dwelled there?" Gwaine accused the King's manservant.

"I had an idea, Gaius is very knowledgeable when it comes to these kind of things," Merlin lied, chuckling slightly.

Gwaine nodded. "What she said made sense Merlin...I don't understand..."

Merlin frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"That evil doesn't lie in the magic that is practiced, only in the heart of men." Said Gwaine simply. "She was so pure...She was _not_ evil Merlin. How can that be? When we are all made to believe that magic is a force of evil..."

Merlin smiled. "Perhaps she is right, maybe there is more than what meets the eye-"

"Then why is it banished in Camelot?" Gwaine protested, standing up and brushing off his trousers. "Why have I only seen it being used for evil?" He finished sadly.

In that moment, Merlin wanted nothing more to just tell Gwaine who he was that the Lady Ostara was right! Magic was _not_ evil! It _could_ be used for good! But instead, as per usual, he said nothing. "We should get going,"

Gwaine nodded solemnly, and the two men walked back through the cave in silence, and back into the dark woods once more.

* * *

"There it is," Murmured Arthur quietly.

After a long ride, the men had reached a tall spindly, dying tree. They were in boggy lands, and a thick mist was searing around their horses feet, making it almost impossible to see the route ahead. But one could not miss it. For through the thick fog and beyond stood a large grey tower, looming dangerously up ahead.

"We need to split up!" The King shouted to the brigade, "Leon, Percival, you're with me. We will approach from the east." He addressed two of his finest Knights. "And Elyan, I want you to lead Merek and Borin along with Vidor and Caridoc and take a western approach." The King struggled to speak against the brisk wind that was beginning to blow. "The rest of you, will wait here. When you hear signal from the Knights, Sir Brennis and Sir Cador will lead you forth width into attack. Now, is that understood?"

The Knights and soldiers nodded respectfully at their King.

"Very well," Said Arthur, "The best of luck to you all,"

The King, Leon and Percival then began to head to the tower from the east. The land was marsh ridden, and the horses were beginning to struggle. Dismounting and setting out on foot, they neared closer and closer to the dark tower. It looked morbid. The waves from beneath the cliff sprayed onto the windows down below, as the cold bitter wind blew frightfully at the Knight's as they made their way forward. The Knights eventually made their way around the side of the tower, where there was little patrol and security protecting it's edges.

"Sire," Percival spoke, attempting to be quiet, yet heard, over the loud wind and the crashing waves. "That window could be large enough to climb through," The Knight pointed to a large opening in the tower which hung dangerously over the cliff in which below, the water surged angrily.

Leon shuddered. "That is _suicide_, we cannot possibly-"

"Well do you see any other entrance?" Asked Percival, "Morgana's not exactly going to hold the door open for us is she?"

"He's right," Said Arthur, "If we are to approach the element of surprise successfully, this area of the tower will not be so heavily guarded. C'mon, this way!" The King lead his Knight's over to the opening of the tower. The three men hugged the wall of the stone for dear life as they side stepped dangerously over the edge of the cliff. "You first Percival," Urged the King, helping Percival and then Sir Leon into the window, careful not to lose his footing. Just as Arthur was about to haul himself up into the window himself, something shiny caught his eye.

A ring.

But it was not just any ring. The sight of the small silver band, brought upon a large tug on his heart. The King froze, his Knight's still urging him inside of the tower, but he did not hear them. All that Arthur saw was the small ring before him. _Her _ring. Picking it up gingerly, he examined it closely.

His eyes met with the familiar markings on the ring he had thought it to be. Sure enough, it was Guinevere's betrothal ring, in which he had given to her all those months ago. His hands shook with fear and cold.

What was it doing here? How could this tiny ring get so far away from its owner? Had she thrown it away? More to the point, what was it doing _here_ next to this horrendous tower on the edge of a cliff? Arthur noticed that the ring was attached to a leather cord. Slowly, he ran his fingers along the leather, there was a knot in it, and further along the cord, it had broken, as if it had been pulled from someone's neck.

Her neck? _Where was she? _Was it possible, that the sweet Guinevere who was once his own, was imprisoned in this place of horror?

_No_.

It couldn't be.

_NO!_

No matter what she had done she never deserved something like this. Was she a slave? A mistress? _Was she even still alive?_

And it was his fault. He had done this. _He _had banished her.

He felt sick.

Arthur's body shook with emotion, his fist clenching around the ring angrily. He was going to bring this disgusting place down, and liberate every single last person within it, if it was the last thing he did.

_"Let's go!"_ He spat angrily.


	12. Chapter 12

The tower was damp, dark, and dingy. There was little to see, as the three Knight's made their way up into the dim building.

Arthur, clenched Guinevere's ring tightly in his gloved fist as they crept through the tower. The plan was simple. Take out as many of Morgana's men as possible, then wait for back up. It wasn't necessarily the strongest and wisest plan the King had ever come up with before, but right now, his mind was distracted.

"Hey you-AGH" Came the sound of guard, not long before he was smacked around the back of the head by the blunt end of Sir Leon's sword, falling to the floor with a sickening crunch.

The three continued to make their way through the dark corridors, knocking out more guards and more reinforcements of Morgana's men as they went.

"In here," Called Percival, approaching a large wooden door ahead. Percival marched with purpose towards the door and swung it open urgently.

He regretted it instantly.

For inside the door, stood at least seventy black Knights, all in full armour, stood tall with their lethal sharp sword's brandished menacingly.

The three Knight's stood gobsmacked, before Arthur drew his own sword. The King looked behind him, there was a large group of enemy Knight's running towards them from the opposite end of the corridor.

They were trapped.

"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" Shouted King Arthur, running into the room of 70 Knight's and swinging his sword about dangerously, battling and sparring fiercely with the armed men.

Leon and Percival drew their swords too, and with bravery matching that of their King, followed after Arthur, fighting hard.

_SWING, CLASH, BANG, SWING._

Arthur was hit firmly in his shoulder, as he felt it painfully dislocate. "AGH!" He cried aloud, grasping his shoulder with his free hand, still attempting to fend off his enemies.

But the Knight's attempts were futile. They were outnumbered by at least ninety men. It was useless.

"Take them to the lady Morgana," Snarled one of the soldiers nastily. "She will reward us greatly," The man, smirked cruelly, before signalling for the guards to drag Arthur, Leon and Percival away to the Lady Morgana herself.

Arthur felt useless. He had been caught. They had failed. Their only hope now, was that of the Knight's outside. Perhaps they would rescue them?

The three brave warriors were dragged roughly down two flights of stairs and into a large cold hall. The hall was dark, and a few cobwebs hung from the ceiling cast dangerous shadows about the place, illuminating from the dim candlelight surrounding the hall. In the centre, at the top of the great room, were two large wooden thrones. One of which sat a huge, large muscled, tanned man, possessing little hair, his eyebrows were dark, wearing a cruel smirk upon his-what would have been attractive -face, if Arthur had not known better. It was Helios, the famous Warlord, the King recognised him instantly, and beside him, sat none other than his once sweet and caring sister.

_Morgana_.

The King's jaw clenched immediately upon the dreadful sight of her, as he was thrown to her feet.

"_Dear_ brother," The witch smirked cruelly, gazing coldly down upon her former friend. "How nice of you to join me,"

"_Morgana,_" Arthur spat.

"Now, now dear brother," Morgana pouted sarcastically, as she arose from her throne and walked around to greet Arthur, "Oh look," She said, noticing Sir Leon and Sir Percival for the first time on their knees before her. "You've brought along some friends." She cackled. "I always loved a party..." She laughed.

"Let us go," Said Arthur weakly.

Morgana just laughed harder. "I'm going to enjoy killing you Arthur Pendragon...But first," She span on her heel, in a balletic manner, "I'm going to have some fun with you," She grinned, before turning to her minions, "Take the other two to the dungeons, I want a word with my dear_ brother_," She drawled.

"_Morgana-stop_," Said Arthur hoarsely, his shoulder still in agony.

Morgana bent down beside Arthur, "I promise you Arthur, that when I kill you, you will feel the most immense pain you've ever felt. I promise you Arthur Pendragon, that the pain you shall feel will be so _inexplicable_, so _unimaginable_ that you will _beg _ for death!"

"Enough games Morgana," Came the voice of the Warlord behind her, "Get it over with,"

Morgana pouted, "But I like to play with my food before I eat it dear Helios." She giggled sadistically. "My, my Arthur Pendragon, you have made my plans _so_ much easier. By the next full moon, the throne of Camelot will be mine, and you shall be dead! Take him away! He's in for a real treat..."

Arthur was dragged painfully out of the room, blacking out a few times as he was dragged down more flights of stairs, until finally he was thrown onto the hard stone floor of a dark cell. Coughing slightly, he grasped his shoulder in agony. Glancing briefly around the cell, he realised he was not alone in there.

There was a body, a figure, a woman's figure. Although it was difficult to tell judging by how thin she was. The woman was lying across the floor on her side, facing the back of the cell. Pieces of straw, and dirt encrusted the woman's dark curly hair. It was so dark, but Arthur could just make out the pale blue dress that the woman was wearing, as the top of her back was slightly exposed, revealing the woman's honey coloured, but soiled skin, from where she had clearly been locked away for a while.

She looked familiar.

Then it hit him.

And when it did, it hit him hard, it was worse than any battle injury he had ever had, worse than anything imaginable. It was unbearable. For the woman lying limp at the back of the cell, was not some random woman. It was his former betrothed.

_It couldn't be._

Surely not?

Arthur froze, his back pressed up against the bars of the cells, gazing at the woman he believed to be his Guinevere. It couldn't be, surely life was not so cruel? Arthur couldn't move, he was rooted to the spot, his entire body shaking violently. He felt dizzy, overwhelmed. _No_. _NO!_

All the time Arthur had been spending in the castle, laughing with the Princess of Nemeth, had she been here, suffering? All the times, he had refused a rich meal out of anguish from his manservant, had she been here, starving? All that time, all those months, he had been warm, in his bed, in his luxury quarters, had she been here, cold, alone, and in pain?

Hot tears began to stream down his dirty face. He could not stop shaking. Desperately, he wanted to reach out, to touch her, to cradle her. But he could not, he stay still routed to the spot against the bars, just staring.

Was she even alive? What if he was to turn her over and she was no longer breathing? All his fears, all his nightmare's, all his guilty feelings beneath resurfaced, for they had come to be true. He was shell shocked.

"_Guinevere,_" He called out brokenly into the darkness.

There was no reply.

Guinevere lay still, unmoving.

_And she was so terribly thin._

Guinevere had always possessed beautifully round curves, something Arthur had loved and cherished about her. But now, she was barely skin and bone, horribly malnourished. A skeleton.

"_Guinevere,_" He tried again, still unable to move.

Still nothing.

Clenching his shoulder tightly, he began to shuffle towards the body. He was absolutely terrified with what he may find when he turned her over. Shifting closer and closer to the body, until he was knelt over her, her back gently coming into contact with the front of his thighs.

It was definitely Guinevere, there was no mistaking that.

The King gently pulled her body over so she was lying on her back, and what he saw next, would haunt him to the next life and back.

Guinevere's cheekbones were dark and hollow, her face no longer was graced by beautiful round, rosy cheeks but replaced with dirt and grime upon her once clear and radiant skin. Bruises littered her face and neck. Both of her eyes were closed, dark circles surrounding them, and just above her eyebrow was a nasty looking deep cut.

Arthur shook harder, barely able to contain himself. He could not cry, he was too shocked. Raising a shivering hand gently to her face, he softly stroked across her cheek, a fat tear from his eyes dropping upon her sweet nose.

"_Guinevere,_" He choked.

Gently grasping her small and frail shoulders, he leaned down and pressed an ear to her neck, lifting two fingers up as he did so to check for a pulse.

It was weak, but it was there.

A huge wave of relief came over the King, letting a few more stray tears fall upon his former betrothed's battered face. Arthur noticed that Guinevere's lips were dry. She needed water, she was clearly dehydrated.

Being as careful as possible, he wrapped an arm gently Guinevere's middle, and the other around her shoulders as he pulled her into his lap. Guinevere had never been heavy, but now her weight was perhaps similar to that of a child's. He cradled her carefully in his arms, leaning down to place a soft kiss upon her soiled forehead.

She looked so broken.

He brushed a stray dark curl out of her thin face before he reached for his cow skin pouch, which was full to the brim of fresh spring water. Arthur rapidly unscrewed the lid of the skin, and lifted Guinevere's head up gently, dripping the water into the maiden's mouth.

"It's alright Guinevere," The King whispered. "It's going to be okay-" He stuttered. How did he know it was going to be okay? He was going to be killed and tortured and as for Guinevere. Arthur did not want to know the horrors that someone who had once been so innocent to the darkness of the earth had been through.

He scowled at the thought of his sister. Of course she had wanted him to suffer before he died. So he would die guilt ridden and heartbroken. His sister had always known his weakness. _Her_.

The King pulled Guinevere closer to his chest, and held her tight, kissing the top of her head lovingly before attempting to feed her more water.

Guinevere felt warm. It was a contrast to how she had felt in the last few days spent in her cell. Her head was not resting upon the hard stone floor of the cell, but was instead resting upon something hard, but warm. It felt like armour. Guinevere's eyes fluttered open slowly, and her deep brown eyes met that of sparkling blue.

She was dreaming.

She _had _to be dreaming.

Or had she died and passed on?

It was not possible that he was here. How could it be?

"A-Arthur?" She whimpered quietly, shivering in his arms. She reached up slowly, to run her hand across his cheek, almost to make sure that he was real. "I-I ...Am I still-still-" She frowned, and attempted to sit up, but winced and let out a small, feeble cry of pain.

"G-Guinevere?" Said Arthur roughly,

"_Arthur_," Cried Guinevere breathlessly, as she slowly reached out to him, her eyes seeking his permission as she did so.

As Guinevere's hands wrapped around his neck cuddling him close to him, his strong arms immediately wrapped themselves around her now fragile frame crushing her to him, as he rubbed her back, desperate to feel more of her.

Guinevere began to sob into Arthur's neck, her body trembling from a mixture of shock and malnourishment. "I-I t-thought..."

"Shhh, it's alright," He whispered softly, "I've _got_ you,"

"I-I thought I was...I-I was g-going t-to d-d-_die_!" Her body shock violently, protesting at Arthur's attempts to hold her still.

The sound of Guinevere's broken voice struck a cord on his heavy heart, causing Arthur to begin to cry softly. "Shhh it's okay, you're okay," He rubbed her back soothingly, and ran his fingers through her dirty, matted hair.

She pulled away from his embrace slowly, taking his face in her hands gently, "I-I m-_missed_ you Arthur," She whispered hoarsely, but emotionally.

"And I you," He stroked her face gently, trying to wipe away her fat tears which were streaming down her face. The sight much reminded him of when he had exiled her from Camelot, her kneeling down before him. She had looked so pitiful then, and even more so now.

Her face fell, as she stared at the floor, unable to quite look Arthur in the eye, for guilt of what she had done to him. "I-I'm,"

Arthur pressed a finger to her dry, pale lips, "Don't talk, save your strength," He muttered gently.

She slowly slid herself off of Arthur's lap, and sat beside him, leaning against the wall, her skinny arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

Arthur didn't know what to say to her and she to him, so they sat in silence, before Arthur made to get up and cried out in pain, his shoulder was still painfully dislocated and he winced noticeably.

Guinevere leaned forward to help her former betrothed, "Your hurt," She whispered, her voice full of concern.

"It's nothing," The King brushed off. A dislocated shoulder must be nothing to what Guinevere was feeling.

"Here, let me," Guinevere, crawled over to Arthur, and gently began to remove his armour, being aware of the dislocated shoulder which was causing him severe pain. Removing the white shirt he was wearing beneath his armour. Blushing slightly at the sight of him without a shirt, she winced at the sight of the disfigurement on his shoulder, and cringed at what she knew she had to do next. "This is going to hurt," She said, all the while, Arthur stared at her intensely.

He barely heard her, his eyes simply bored into hers, taking in every inch of her. _This_ was the woman he loved, not Princess Mithian, who was sitting comfortably back in Camelot, all the while his Guinevere had been suffering, and it was he, Arthur, who had caused it. "AGH!" He cried out in agony as Guinevere pulled his shoulder back into it's correct position.

Ripping a large chunk out of the thin pale blue gown she was wearing she tied the cloth tightly around Arthur's shoulder. It was a poor bandage, but it would hold.

They stared at each other then.

Arthur looked different since she had last seen him, perhaps a little older and worse for wear, hints of darkness under shadowed his eyes. But there was one thing that was still yet the same. The love that Guinevere bore for Arthur, was just as strong as it had been the day she had been banished from her home. She stared into his eyes for longer, she had thought that she would never see him again, that he hated her, that he didn't want her, that much was most likely still to be true. It didn't matter how much they had both suffered, Guinevere had still betrayed Arthur, and she new deep down, that he still had not quite forgiven her yet.

"Thank you," Said Arthur smiling awkwardly at his former love. Guinevere looked so weak, so frail, he wanted nothing more to just hold her once more, but he did not know whether it appropriate or not. So instead, he moved away, and leaned once more against the wall of the cell, Guinevere moving to the opposite wall, so they were facing each other, but with the most distance the small cell would allow.

They sat in silence for what seemed like hours before one of them spoke once more.

"Arthur?" Guinevere said quietly.

Arthur looked up at the fragile woman sat opposite him.

"What's going to happen to us?" She whispered. She wanted reassurance, wanted to know if he had an escape plan, whether or not they were to be rescued...Then again, would he still want to rescue her after what she had done to him? And what had happened to Gwaine? Had Gwaine told Arthur to come and rescue her? Is that why he was here?

Arthur was silent for a moment before speaking, "I-I don't Guinevere..." He wanted to give her reassurance, wanted to tell her that it'd be alright, that he'd get her out of the disgusting cell.

She was trembling.

He noticed.

"You're cold?" He asked, observing her. Her dress was very thin, and she was very skinny now, she must have been freezing.

"I-I am fine," She said, her teeth beginning to chatter wildly, she wrapped her arms tightly around her knees, hugging them to her chest.

"Come," He beckoned her over to him.

She froze, "A-Arthur I-I d-don't t-think-"

"You're freezing Guinevere, _come_," He almost demanded, opening his arms wide for her as she crawled weakly over to him, and allowed him to wrap her against his chest tightly.

His presence and scent almost overwhelmed her to the point where hot, wet tears began to seep out of her now dull eyes. Oh how she had missed him! Missed his warm and comforting embrace, the last time she had been this close to a human being was when...It must have been when- No it couldn't have been? The last human being who had held her positively had been Lancelot on that fateful night. She felt disgusted with herself and struggled slightly in Arthur's warm embrace beginning to weep.

He frowned at her feeble attempts to move in his arms. This was not the Guinevere he remembered during their betrothal. It was evident that this Guinevere had suffered a great deal, this Guinevere's eyes were no longer bright and full of life, but were now dull, and almost craving death.

_What had he done to her?_

He clamped his arms around the distressed Guinevere in his arms and held her fiercely, he wanted to warm her up, give her some sort of comfort, to make up for all the time she had spent alone. He did not know how long she had been shut down here.

Guinevere stopped fighting his embrace, and began to sob rapidly into his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of it, never wanting to let him go. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how she would do anything for him, how she would give up her own life to save his in the blink of an eye. But she didn't. She couldn't. She did not want to be shot down. Instead, she nestled closer to Arthur, burying her hollow, bruised face into the opening of his shirt, placing the most gentleness of kisses onto his bare chest.

Arthur hated seeing her like this, so weak, so helpless. He wanted her to be strong. But how could she? She had been locked in here for he did not know how long. She had been starved, abused...He did not want to think of what else. The King tried to hold himself together, placing a gentle kiss upon Guinevere's head. He noticed that the roots of her hair looked red and sore, as though she had been dragged along the floor by her curly, dark hair.

Arthurs fists clenched angrily around her back and he shuddered darkly.

_How dare they._

"Guinevere," Arthur started. He had been holding off asking this question for a while now, but he could not help himself. He had to know. Had to know how long she'd been here, how long she'd suffered for. "Guinevere, how long have you been here for?" He asked her evenly.

Attempting to dry her eyes on his shirt before she gazed up at him, she shifted herself up at little upon Arthur's lap, her nose not even an inch away from his. She could feel his hot shaky breath across her face. It felt comforting. "I-I don't know," She whispered. "I-I've l-lost track of time," She cried, unable to stop the tears streaming down her face.

Arthur sighed, and held her closer with one arm, whilst bringing his free hand up to wipe away the heavy tears which were streaming down her bruised and battered, sweet face. The King rested his forehead against hers and looked meaningfully into her deep almond eyes. "A few days?" He asked hopefully, tracing his finger carefully over a few of the bruises across her cheek. It was like the bruises were laughing at him, spitting at him as they had settled themselves nastily upon sweet Guinevere's hollow cheek.

She choked out a large sob, "N-No," She shook her head against his, some of the dirt from her face transferring over to his.

The sight of her was breaking his heart, he reached down daringly, and kissed away some of the tears which blotched her face. "Shorter? Longer?" He offered kindly, his hand which was previously holding her waist, now trailing circles on her back in an attempt to comfort her, and running softly up and down her worryingly bony spine.

"L-Longer m-much l-longer," Guinevere cried, clenching her eyes shut and letting her tears flow freely, her sobs rang loudly throughout the cold cell, as she struggled to breathe. "A-A month maybe? Perhaps longer. I don't know I-I'm _sorry_!" She wailed miserably.

Arthur had never seen Guinevere so weak and broken, he didn't know what to do. She was shaking so violently in his arms that he could not keep still himself. He didn't want to upset her anymore, she was clearly overwhelmed. Anyone would be after what she'd most likely been through. Arthur felt horribly guilty and sick, he gently picked Guinevere up off of his lap with his uninjured arm and lay her gently on the hard stone floor.

She immediately protested at the absence of his warmth, reaching out for him as a small child would her mother.

The King clambered swiftly down beside her, gathering her up in his arms, so her back lay firmly against his chest as he held her tightly around the middle with one arm, and stroked her hair softly with the other.

Her shaking and sobbing slowly began to subside as he gently soothed her, pressing his lips occasionally to the back of her neck.

Arthur didn't know what to feel. After seeing Guinevere like this, he never wanted to let her out of his sight again. But still, after she fell silent his mind began to wander. What would have happened if he hadn't exiled her? If he forgave her? Married her even? Would their marriage have been happy? Would they have trusted one another? Now, she was in this state, had suffered this terrible ordeal. He had always made an oath to himself that he'd sworn to protect his Guinevere, no matter what happened. He had broken that oath. He had failed her. But then again, none of this would have happened if he had not found her in the arms of another. He caressed Guinevere's exposed neck while she slept, her breathing still uneven. Why? Why had she done that to him? Had she not loved him? Of course she loved him! The reasonable side of the King knew that, and deep down, he knew that he _still_ loved her. Perhaps even more so than ever before. But his insecurities were still surfacing about his heart, restricting him. He loved her dearly, but he still did not know whether he trusted her.

Placing one last soft, wet lingering kiss on the side of her slightly bruised neck, he extended his arm out underneath her little head as a pillow for her to rest upon, before burying his nose into her dirty hair, and falling into a deep, and troubled sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

It was difficult to tell how long they had been stuck in the small, icy cell. The space was so dark one could not identify whether it was sunrise or sunset. Arthur and Guinevere still had not spoken properly to one another. They were locked desperately in a tight embrace, and Guinevere seemed to be getting weaker and weaker by the hour. She had not had the luxury of the meals Arthur had been having for the past few months. The last time Guinevere had eaten three meals in a day, was the day of her exile. Since then, it had been, berries, rabbits, and scraps of bread. The cell was drawing slowly, the little life left within her. She was slipping away.

Arthur, repositioned her heavy head upon his shoulder, sliding it up from his chest. She looked so small, so weak. Arthur knew that she was weakening. Her little body could not take the strain it had put through for much longer.

Murmuring something in her sleep she shifted against the King, and Arthur only held her tighter.

His tighter grip on her, woke the former servant and she gradually opened her eyes. She was lying against something warm and familiar. Still in the cell, but more comfortable than she had been in months, she tilted her head upwards slightly, as she looked up into the King's eyes, shining brilliantly blue straight at her.

Arthur looked at her sadly, stroking her cheek softly. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly, studying her anxiously, his eyes lingering a little on the angry bruises across her face.

"I-I'm fine," She coughed slightly, sitting up a little, allowing Arthur's arms around her to loosen slightly. She reached up and cupped his cheek sadly. "Are _you_ alright?" Guinevere gestured to his recovering shoulder.

He paused for a moment, before shaking his head slowly, and looking to the floor.

Arthur rarely showed emotion, Guinevere knew this, and it bothered her a great deal seeing him suffer. No matter how terrible any ordeal she went through herself was, she would always put others safety before her own. Taking hold of his face in both hands and moving in his arms so that she was straddling him lightly she spoke softly to him; "What's wrong? What hurts?" She asked urgently.

"T-This," He gestured to her body. "You-You're fading away Guinevere...And it's all my fault..." He said hoarsely. "You didn't deserve this." He whispered.

Guinevere froze, pulling away from him for a moment. "Arthur," She said slowly. She was speechless. She did not know what to say. A part of her wanted to comfort him, tell him that it was not his fault, that she had deserved this, for she had betrayed him. But there was another part of her, a small part, a tiny part of her, that tugged at her heart, that wanted him to feel for her, for just how much she had suffered, for how much she had been put through due to her exile. People had not shown her kindness in a long time. She looked sadly to the floor.

A rough, calloused but gentle hand held her chin and tilted upwards. Arthur leaned over her as she knelt on the floor of the cell before him. She looked into his eyes. She felt vulnerable. His face was coming closer to hers, her heart beat was increasing and her eyes instinctively shut as she felt his lips meet hers.

He was kissing her. He had not kissed her for months.

She had missed it.

His hands snaked carefully around her, one gently holding her head in place, the other wrapped firmly around her waist. He kissed her deeply, desperately, as though his life depended on it. Emotions ran raw through the kiss. Anger, hurt, frustration, need, lust, possession, _want_. It was too much for Guinevere to handle in her vulnerable state and she drew apart from him for breath, her forehead still pressing firmly against his.

"_Arthur_," She breathed heavily, "Arthur, if we don't...If we don't make it out of here alive, I want you to know-"

"_Don't_." He said firmly, both of his hands grasping the sides of her head. "_Don't you dare Guinevere,_"

"I-" She whimpered.

"You're _not_ going to die here Guinevere," He said passionately.

"But-"

"_No._" Arthur stated. "Do not speak of such things. You are going to get out of here." He pulled away from her slightly and rested his back against the cell wall, leaving Guinevere, still knelt before him.

Stray tears fell from her sunken eyes. "I miss you so much Arthur," She sobbed, bringing her hands to cover her face. "I-I t-think of you everyday-regret my-" So overwhelmed with sudden emotion, she could not quite bring herself to bring up her betrayal in front of him. So instead, she wiped her eyes furiously with the sleeves of her dress and looked Arthur directly in the eyes. "_I love you, Arthur,_" She said stubbornly through her sobs.

"How _touching_,"

A cruel high voice became audible through the bars of the cells, as Morgana Pendragon approached it. "Guards, seize him and bring him to the great hall,"

The guards opened the cell, and as they did, Guinevere threw herself in front of Arthur.

"Don't _touch_ him!" Cried Guinevere desperately. "Leave him alone!" She tried to shield Arthur, but it was a feeble attempt.

Morgana laughed cruelly before using her magic to throw Guinevere loftily aside, away from Arthur.

"Leave her alone!" Spat Arthur, fuming. "Do what you want with me, but let her go!"

"Oh?" Morgana said, feigning surprise, "_Now_ you care for her?" The witch turned to Guinevere who was now clawing desperately against the bars to get to Arthur, who was being held firmly by two guards, now outside of the cell. "Forgive me, but I thought you had moved on? Do you, or do you not, have the Princess of Nemeth residing in Camelot awaiting your hand in marriage?" She cackled.

Guinevere's face fell, and her attempts to reach Arthur stopped somewhat. She was stunned.

Morgana laughed nastily at Guinevere's speechless expression. "Oh but he didn't tell you?" She smirked, "Even _I_ knew! Nothing escapes _my _ears. But then again...You have been locked in here a while..." She trailed off shrugging slightly. "_Come!_" She called to her guards as she stalked down away from the cell.

"_Guinevere!_" Shouted Arthur desperately, as he watched her, slumped miserably against the bars of her cell. "_NO!"_

Was it true? _Had_ he moved on so quickly?... Perhaps she did not mean as much to him as she had thought she did. He was _betrothed_. Betrothed to someone that wasn't her! She had just kissed a _betrothed_ man. She had just professed her love to a _betrothed_ man. She felt sick. A betrothed man who was now taken, surely to be killed. Curling up into the fatal position, she held herself and sobbed loudly in anguish, for there was no hope for Arthur now, Morgana had him in her clutches. She was going to lose him for good now...But perhaps, she already had...

* * *

Arthur was forced to his knees roughly, before his sister, his teeth gritted, and his eyes hard. "Let her go, Morgana. She has done _nothing_ to you, it is me you want."

"And it is you that I have," Laughed Morgana, "I'll deal with her later," The witch circled Arthur, rubbing her hands together in glee, "Hmm, there are _so_ many ways in which I'd like to kill you Arthur Pendragon,"

Arthur chuckled darkly, "Always the indecisive."

Morgana snorted, "Either way, you're going to die-"

But then the King spoke, rather unexpectedly at that. "I was nine, and you were ten," He interrupted loudly, causing Morgana to stop pacing and turn to glare at Arthur, furious that he had interrupted her.

"You had just become fathers ward, and shouted at me, because I was in your chambers." Arthur recollected.

"You will _die_!" Cried Morgana, interrupting Arthur loudly, not wanting to hear what he was about to say,

Arthur carried on, his voice firmer this time, "Then you'd seen what I had done, I squashed that spider under my boot on purpose, that you were keeping in jar under your bed." Arthur laughed darkly, "I said it wasn't proper for girls to keep such creatures, and I squished it right in front of you. I told you it was disgusting and laughed at you for it." The King continued.

"_Shut up,_" Morgana screeched loudly. She didn't want to hear this. What Arthur did that day was cruel. Perhaps is was not proper for girls to keep such creatures under their beds, but young Morgana was fascinated by nature. It was her way of distracting herself from her fathers passing. She used to collect little spiders which were injured by the maids harsh dusting, in and around the castle. It had made her feel in control, powerful as such, as she had the power to save the lives of these tiny, helpless creatures. Just like Uther had the power to save, or not abandon, the life of her beloved father.

Then Arthur had ruined that.

He spoke even louder, "You cried and you hit me, telling me that every creature deserved to live, no matter how small it was, and how disgusting it looked."

Morgana struck him hard across the face, "I said _shut up_!" How dare he remind her of those days! How dare he speak to her in such away when he was in such a vulnerable position. He was making _her _feel weak.

Arthur winced and recoiled, before speaking passionately; "You said _every_ life was worthy-"

"BECAUSE UTHER AS GOOD AS _MURDERED_ MY FATHER!" Screeched Morgana. "Your father-"

"_Our _father," Arthur corrected.

Morgana kicked him hard in the stomach, "Uther was _not_ my father! Perhaps by blood, but Uther was a cruel and heartless man, who cared little for anyone but _himself!_" She spat angrily.

"He took you in didn't he? Loved you as if you were his own...But I suppose you were after all..."

"Uther was a _murderer_!"

Arthur laughed darkly; "Like you then? You attack innocent civilians, you kill out of cold blood Morgana! _What happened to that girl who was so desperate to save the life of just a spider?_" Whispered Arthur passionately. "Is she hiding under that wicked sorceress you've become?"

"Magic is not evil Arthur Pendragon, you and your father _massacred_ those who practiced it!" Morgana said quietly, her cheeks turning pink with anger.

"And you just massacre those who do not!" Protested Arthur angrily.

"You wouldn't understand!" Cried Morgana, "You could never understand what it's like to feel so alone, to be made to _hate_ who you are!"

"I'm sorry Morgana," Said Arthur softly. "Father loved you-"

"Uther did not _love_ me!" Screeched Morgana, "Do you lock someone in shackles when you love someone? Do you strike them across the face?"

"Father's method's could be cruel yes, but the love he-"

"_Love?_ What do you know of _love_ Arthur Pendragon?" Scoffed the witch, "You've a fickle heart. The woman _you_ claim to love has been lying in a cell for weeks on end by your hand!" She quietened down and almost laughed at the irony.

Arthur winced painfully, for it was true. Guinevere had been left to rot in that cell while he was off on picnics with Princess Mithian, "Morgana _please_. There is still hope-"

"I am going to kill you Arthur Pendragon, once and for all." Morgana stated loudly. "And I am going to enjoy doing it." She turned her back on Arthur, "But perhaps, it would be more fun to torture those you care for first..." She turned back to face him, smiling wickedly.

"_Morgana_," Arthur warned.

"Guards-"

_"STOP!" _

The doors to the great hall slammed open. Through the darkness of the corridor outside, the silhouettes of two figures, stood bravely in the door. One shaggy haired and muscular, and the other, rather lanky. Behind the figures, were more men.

_Knights_.

Knights of Camelot.

Morgana's face hardened as she faced the two figures in the doorway, leading the small Camelot brigade. "How nice of you to join us," Morgana sneered at Merlin and Gwaine as they walked slowly towards her. "You're just about to watch your King _die_," And with that, she quickly grabbed one of the guards swords to her right, and made a swipe for the King.

Arthur ducked quickly.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold and Morgana's sword flew out of her hand. He dived towards the weapon, seizing it, and throwing it to Arthur, who caught it swiftly.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?!" Cried the King in disbelief at his manservant.

Merlin shrugged, holding out a hand to Arthur, to get him up off the ground, just as the Knight's began to fight the guards.

"You really are the most _useless_ servant Merlin," Arthur sighed, as he swung his sword into the side of a passing guard, who was sparring dangerously with Percival.

"Hey! I just _rescued _you," Merlin protested, grabbing a sword for himself and aiding Arthur and the Knights against Morgana's men.

"Don't speak too soon Merlin," Grumbled Arthur, as more of Morgana's men made their way into the room. "SPLIT UP!" Shouted Arthur to the Knight's, as they fought their way out of the great hall.

* * *

"Merlin!" Cried Gwaine, "Come with me!" Gwaine beckoned to the warlock as he sprinted out of the hall, Merlin high on his heels. "This way!" The Knight led Merlin down a flight of stairs which led to the cells. He had to free Guinevere. If she was still alive...Gwaine wondered whether Arthur had found her yet. Perhaps she had already escaped? "Through here," Gwaine said, as they turned the corner.

Merlin had an idea where Gwaine was taking him. The guilt of not saving Guinevere when he had the chance had weighed on the Knight heavily, and now he was determined to put it right.

If she was still there...

They rounded the corner swiftly. "Gwen!" Cried Merlin, in surprise. She looked so thin and tired. Her face was streaked with tears as she lay next to the cell bars, still clasping them tightly.

She looked up, hoping to see her once beloved, but her tired brown eyes met with that of her old friends. She managed to smile weakly. "_Merlin_! What are doing here?" She asked, as she slowly got to her feet, brushing herself off. "Where's Arthur?" She added sharply.

"The towers under attack," Said Merlin quickly, "We need to get you out of here,"

Gwaine smiled at her sadly, "Are you alright?"

Guinevere nodded, swallowing thickly.

"Stand back," Said the Knight, as he drew a mace from his belt and began to swing it with great force. The mace collided heavily with one of the hinges of the metal bars, and they came loose. After breaking all three hinges the cell door fell from its hinges, freeing the maiden.

Merlin ran over to Gwen and gathered her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "I'm so glad you're safe," He whispered, in her ear making her smile.

"Gwen, I'm sorr-" Began Gwaine before he was cut off sharply.

"_Don't_ apologize Gwaine, the fault 'twas not yours," She smiled, removing herself from Merlin's embrace and hugged Gwaine reassuringly.

"I could have-"

"_No,_" Said Guinevere firmly, "You are here now, and that is all that matters. Now, how can I help? You are freeing the slaves, are you not?"

"You can't," Said Gwaine simply.

"What do you mean I can't?! I _want_ to help Arthur!" Gwen protested.

"You are weak Gwen," Merlin pointed out, "Look at yourself, you can barely stand, you need food, rest, you're in no state to fight,"

"But I-"

"No buts!" Said Gwaine firmly. "Go to the east wing, the path is clear there, and there is a horse waiting for you," He patted her shoulder reassuringly.

Tears began to fill Gwen's kind eyes, "But I _want_ to help!" She exclaimed desperately. She needed to see for herself that Arthur was still alive and well. But after all, technically she was still exiled from Camelot. She could not ride back with them anyways. But surely perhaps Arthur would have changed his mind? He _had_ kissed her...But then Morgana had mentioned the Princess of Nemeth. Was it true? Arthur had not confirmed it, but he had not denied it either...

"You _are_ helping Gwen!" Gwaine reassured her. "You're helping us by getting yourself to safety!"

Merlin took her hand, "Ride for Ealdor, you'll be safe there, my mother will look after you, I promise," His eyes pleaded with her.

Guinevere knew she could not win. She was weak, she could barely stand. It was true, she did need food and rest, but _Arthur_. She wanted to make sure he was alright, that he was safe. Merlin and Gwaine seemed to realise this as Gwiane spoke up.

"We'll look after the Princess, not to worry," Gwiane chuckled, throwing his arm roughly around Guinevere. "_Now go_!"

She smiled and turned to run, before turning back, "Wait, there is one more thing I would like to ask you," She had to know the truth.

Merlin and Gwaine waited.

"Is it true?" Guinevere asked, looking into their eyes pleadingly. "About the Princess of Nemeth?"

The two men froze, Guinevere could tell that her fears had be clarified, before Merlin spoke slowly, "H-He doesn't know what he's doing, Gwen look-"

"That is all I needed to know Merlin," She smiled sadly at the pair, "I wish them all the best..." She turned to run once more.

"Gwen wait!" Cried Merlin.

She turned back around to face Arthur's manservant one last time, "Arthur _loves_ you Gwen, no Princess can ever change that."

Gwen paused for a moment, "Thank you, both of you. You have shown me great kindness and I am extremely grateful," And she turned once more to run. And she ran, and ran and ran until she reached the east wing. They were right. There was a gleaming white mare standing proudly before her in full tack. It was raining. heavily and she ran into it, embracing it.

She was free.

She could breathe.

She was alive.

Bounding up to the horse, she quickly mounted, breathing in the rain, and savouring its harsh touch on her dirty skin, allowing it to wash away her pain. Nudging her horse into a canter, she rode swiftly away from the dark tower.

* * *

"Defend!" Shouted Arthur, at his surrounding Knight's, one of which was young Merek, fighting bravely alongside the knighted soldiers.

Merek dodged an arrow as he swung his sword valiantly beside his King. He felt proud. Prouder than he ever had done before. Glancing to his left he saw Borin, struggling with three soldiers on his hands. Merek ran over to help. Borin had been Merek's friend for as long as he could remember, he was like his brother. So when Borin gave out an agonising cry of pain, Merek's blood ran cold.

Borin had been struck, blood oozed violently out of Borin's chest. He had been stabbed.

"_No!" _Screeched Merek, running over to Borin and pulling his friend into an alcove.

"Merek we don't have time!" Shouted Elyan, who was fighting hard.

Merek pressed his hand tightly upon Borin's chest. "You're going to be fine old friend. Just fine," He said huskily.

Borin winced in pain, "No," He shifted, Merek supporting his shoulders. "Leave me, please-"

Hot tears began to stream from the young soldiers eyes. "N-No, I _won't _ leave you Borin!" Merek cried. "Not now!"

Pain riddled Borin's face as he struggled to breathe, his wound close to his lungs, "You were always a better fighter than me Merek," He breathed.

"No-"

"You'll be knighted, I'm sure-" He began to gurgle, blood spilling from his mouth. "G-Go, they need your help, l-leave me..." He trailed off as his final breath was drawn.

Borin was dead.

Cold, unmoving and _dead_.

Merek stood up shakily, his vision blurred with tears, his sword trembling in his hands. He was angry. His best friend had just been taken from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw six men beginning to round on the King.

He slashed, cut and fought, until there were no more.

Arthur froze for a moment before turning to stare at the brave solider,"You just saved my life," He said breathlessly.

"I told you that you wouldn't regret letting me come," Said Merek, slashing apart another of Morgana's men ruthlessly.

Percival noticed Morgana making her way up the tower. "Look! After her!"

Arthur, Percival, Elyan, and Merek sprinted after the witch, high on her heels as she fled. Up flights, and flights of stairs she ran, and they after her, until she reached the very top of the tower and out onto the open roof.

The rain hammered down, and lightening broke out across the sky, illuminating Morgana's wicked face eerily. The witch twirled in the rain, embracing the storm laughing as she turned to face the men. The waves crashed angrily on the rocks below, spraying salt water all around.

"It's over Morgana!" Shouted Arthur through the gale, "Surrender!"

Morgana cackled, "This is only the beginning," She smirked, and raised her arms, her eyes flashing gold. The lighting struck faster and more frequently and the wind picked up so that the Knight's and Merek could barely stand. They grasped a hold of the wall desperately, so that the wind did not blow them straight off of the tower and down into the roaring sea below.

Morgana howled with laughter as she twirled in the rain, waving her arms around wildly, her magic controlling the elements.

"STOP!" Came a voice who had just come through the tower.

It was but the brave Sir Gwaine, standing fiercely in the wind, clasping a small bottle tightly in his gloved hand, containing something tiny, but shining brightly through the wind and rain.

Morgana noticed his presence and laughed at his boldness. "You may be brave, Sir Gwaine, but you cannot defeat me," She cackled.

Merlin was close on Gwaine's heels, "_Now_!" He whispered to the brave Knight.

Gwaine unfastened the lid of the bottle and punched the sky with it.

_Where there is suffering, where there is brutality, the soul of a star will neutralize it, purify it..._

A great white light shot into the sky and the wind, rain and lighting ceased. Tiny droplets of white star began to fall from the sky, replacing the harsh rain that Morgana was causing.

Morgana Pendragon's eyebrows furrowed. "What is this?!" She attempted to use her magic to stop this light, to over power it, but she could not. It overpowered her. She almost felt somewhat...pure.

As the droplets fell surges of warmth and comfort filled hearts. Over the tower, down below, hundreds and hundreds of people, once slaves fled the tower, cheering, and waving, each one of them shining brightly with the light. Different creeds, different colours, people ran in all directions, fleeing this place of darkness.

Gwaine grinned. He had done it. He had liberated the slaves of Mercia. They were free. Of course, he had received help, but he had done it all the same. According to the Lady Ostara, he had fulfilled his destiny...

Morgana crumbled into a heap on the floor, overwhelmed by the power within the soul.

The Knight's began to slowly stand up just as the tower gave a huge rumble.

"It's falling apart!" Cried Merlin loudly, "We need to get out of here!"

The Knight's sprinted down the stairs, leaving Morgana at the top of the tower unconscious.

Arthur ran in front of his manservant, escaping the crumbling tower. He needed to get to Guinevere, he could not let this tower collapse on her! He had to save her. The King was about to sprint off when Merlin, almost reading his mind, stopped him.

"She's safe Arthur," Said Merlin softly to his King, the warlock did not know exactly what had happened between Gwen and the King in the tower, but Gwen had known that Arthur was there, so they must have encountered each other at some point.

Arthur snapped. "How do you-"

"She's _gone_ Arthur! We've got to get out of here! I gave her my horse I-"

Arthur nodded quickly, emotional anguish encrypting his face, before running as fast as he could out of the crumbling tower. Few of the Knight's mounted horses and galloped away, others ran after former slaves sprinting away from the crumbling mass.

* * *

They watched from a far as the tower crumbled into the sea, bringing down whomever left inside of it to their peril. All the while, Gwaine stood tall, and proud beside his slightly trembling King.

"You used magic," Said Arthur quietly to the brave Sir Gwaine beside him.

"I sought help where it was needed." Said Gwaine firmly. "Banish me from Camelot if you must, but I am no sorcerer, just a man, who fights for peace."

"I'm not angry." Said Arthur quietly. "I do understand, that in some circumstances, magic is to be fought with magic. But I will never allow it in my Kingdom." Arthur folded his arms as he watched a huge wave wash over the cliff, as the tower fell full on into the water.

Gwaine glanced worriedly at the King, "You are not your father Arthur, you are a good man,"

A ghost of a smile graced Arthur's dirt ridden face, "And you my friend, have liberated the slaves of Mercia, Sir Gwaine." Arthur smiled patting Gwaine on the back.

"I had help, if I hadn't gone to the-or if you hadn't-"

"_Gwaine_," Arthur cut Gwaine off, "You have been out here for weeks, searching, learning all about the place, you have saved the people I care about..." Arthur winced at his own mention of Guinevere. He wondered where she had gone, whether she was safe...Whether she should go after her, "My friend, please just this once, the credit is yours."

Gwaine bowed shortly, "Thank you Your Highness."

Arthur clapped the Knight on the back. "Alas! There is still work to be done my friend. Find Ysmay's daughter, bring her back,"

Gwaine nodded before speaking once more, "Is there anyone else in particular you would like me to find for you my Lord?" He asked, staring intently into Arthur's eyes. There was something inside of the Knight that hoped Arthur would go after Guinevere, but perhaps right now, he was too proud.

Arthur sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. "Get the slaves to head for Ysmay's village, see that everyone's safe. Merlin and I shall head back for Camelot, I have business that needs attending to there. We shall eagerly await for your return in a week."

Gwaine nodded, before patting Arthur roughly on the back as he walked away, grabbing Merlin playfully by the collar and departing the ruin of the tower that was no more.

* * *

"Alieda!"

"_Mother_!"

Ysmay sobbed as her daughter ran into her arms, holding her tightly and kissing her all of over. "Y-You're alive! You're safe! You-"

Ysmay's daughter Alieda hugged her mother tightly, glad to be rid of the nasty tower she was held captive in. "I missed you mother!" She cried, burying her face into her mothers apron.

Ysmay cried tears of joy over Alieda's shoulder, and smiled as she saw who was walking towards her, letting her daughter go, she ran over to the brave Knight and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek, "You did it! You _did_ _it_ Gwaine! I _knew_ you would! I am _so _proud of you!"

Gwaine laughed, before twirling Ysmay around, spinning her off of her feet and kissing her forehead gently. "I promised you didn't I?"

Later that night, there was a huge celebration in the small village. The freed slaves had been fed and nursed and there was a buzz of freedom and equality amongst the happy people.

"People of Misericors!" Cried Sir Leon, standing atop a barrel, "After a great success, it is usually traditional of the King to give a speech, however he has returned to Camelot on an urgent matter he tells me," Leon paused for moment, eyeing the free people happily. "The King would like me to convey the message across to you, that it was not he whom freed the slaves. The King tells me he refuses to take any of the credit for the liberation of the slaves of Mercia. He tells me that it is one brave Knight that all the credit must go to. Sir Gwaine. The King would like you to remember, that it was Sir Gwiane, whom freed you, Sir Gwaine, who has enabled you to now go on and live a free, prosperous life, and it is hence forth, Sir Gwaine, who must be remembered for this deed."

The people of Misericors erupted into applause, and Sir Leon, hauled Gwaine upon to the barrel he was standing on.

"Sir Gwaine!" Cried Leon, "Here my friend, address your people,"

Gwaine stood shakily onto the barrel beside Leon, unsure of what to say. He looked at the crowd standing before him. And then just knew.

Freedom, is a central concept for all beings," Gwaine started, addressing the people before him, "It is a relationship, free of oppression, free of coercion, the absence of compulsion and restriction. I want all of you to remember here on this very night, that freedom is not a privilege. Freedom is a right. I have not done you a favour today, I have paid you debt." Gwaine stumbled on his words a little, fatigued from the past few days' dramatic events, before continuing on slightly louder and braver than before, "There are those who do not believe in freedom, there are those whom believe in practices such as slavery, and it is those whom we fight against." He spat bitterly before raising his voice. "People of Misericors, today, you have fought bravely. There have been casualties," He glanced towards Elyan, who's arm was resting in a sling, having been broken in battle," There have been losses," He made eye contact with young Merek, who was looking sombrely due to the recent loss of his best friend, Borin. "But the casualties will heal, and the losses will be remembered with honour. I ask only one favour of you all. When there is suffering, do not ignore it. When there is pain, do what you can to ease it. And when there is injustice, seek to put it right." Gwaine finished, hopping off of the barrel and walking amongst the people, "And on a lighter note!" He called, "Let there be music!...And someone fetch me a nice tankard of mead!"

The people laughed, danced and celebrated. The village was overwhelmed with people, but the villagers did not mind, for they bathed in each others happiness and celebrated Camelot's success.

"Are you alright weedy boy?" Asked Gwaine, coming to sit next to a tired looking Merek, who was sat drinking a tankard of ale on a discarded wooden crate.

"That was quite a speech back there," Merek pointed, and smirked slightly at the brave Knight sat beside him.

"I'm sorry about Borin, I know you two were close," Gwaine said sadly.

"All is fair in love and war." Merek sighed wearily, rubbing his sandy hair out of his eyes.

"You've changed Merek," Gwaine said absentmindedly, sipping his mead deeply.

"How so?" Asked the soldier sadly.

"You've grown up."

"You only saw me last full moon," Laughed Merek darkly.

"Grief changes people Merek. You will return to Camelot a man," Gwaine patted Merek roughly on the back, before retiring into Ysmay's mud hut, and falling into a deep slumber.

* * *

Aithusa dived upon the crumbling mass of the tower of Mancipium, the young dragon could see the witch clearly, she was curled feebly on top the crumbling tower. She swooped down and grasped onto Morgana tightly, lifting her up and away to safety.

Morgana was still unconscious when Aithusa gently laid Morgana down on the soft grass of a meadow, away from any harmful civilisation. The young white dragon then departed before Morgana arose, for although their fates were entwined, their paths were not yet ready to cross...But the time was soon...


	14. Chapter 14

"Arise Sir Merek, Knight of Camelot,"

The Knights and the nobleman applauded, as the Sandy haired, once slightly lanky Sir Merek stood tall on his feet, rising to face his King, and smiling slightly. Borin was right, soon after returning back from the tower, it was Arthur and Gwaine's idea to have him Knighted. He had never felt more proud. He grinned at the King, and turned to face his audience, waving honourably.

Merek proudly looked upon the Knights. Gwaine grinned at him, smiling proudly, as did the other Knights. After the ceremony was over, the Knights, Lords and nobleman dispersed.

Sir Gwaine had arrived back in Camelot just two days ago, after tending to the leftover business in Misericors. Ysmay had told the Knight sternly that he was to visit whenever he passed through, once more thanking him greatly for the deed he paid in returning her daughter. Gwaine had tried to persuade Ysmay and her daughter to reside in Camelot, telling them that they are entitled to what ever riches and wealth they want there, but Ysmay had outright refused.

"Misericors is my home, Gwaine. I could never leave it." She had said to him

He was of course slightly disappointed at her refusal. Ysmay had become a good friend to the Knight, and it was sad to see her go.

He had been welcomed back with a great feast and celebration for his success. Sir Gwaine grinned happily towards Merek and waved. He was proud of the boy, and beckoned Merek over.

"Congratulations weedy boy!" Grinned Gwiane, patting Merek roughly on the back.

"I believe it's _Sir_ Merek to you." Merek laughed.

"Alright, don't get too ahead of yourself. You may have survived Morgana's wrath, but you haven't been to one of Arthur's training sessions at sunrise yet!"

Merek smiled. "I shall look forward to beating you!" He laughed with the brave Knight, before his face turned sombre once more.

Gwaine noticed this, and placed a reassuring hand on Merek's shoulder. "I am truly sorry about Borin. He was a good soldier."

Merek face turned bitter. "This should be _his_ Knighting ceremony too." He laughed darkly. "We always dreamed as boys that perhaps we'd be knighted together one day..."

"His loss will only make you stronger Merek, remember that." Gwaine clapped Merek on the back a final time. "I'm proud of you Merek."

Merek smiled, before being called over by Percival to be congratulated.

Gwaine smiled at the scene before feeling soft hand tap him on the shoulder and he turned around in surprise at the woman before him.

"I believe we have yet to be acquainted Sir Knight," The beautiful Princess Mithian stood before him, smiling politely, holding out her delicate hand for him to kiss.

Gwaine kissed it swiftly. He could tell that she was not an arrogant, spoilt Princess, but regal and collected. But she was no Guinevere. "Your Highness," He addressed her, bowing slightly.

"I should like to congratulate you Sir Knight, on your valiant success of recent affairs, you're quite the talk of the council." She smiled knowingly.

Gwaine shifted awkwardly, "I did what I had to do,"

"You did what was right. Arthur is extremely grateful." She smiled back at Arthur, who was currently talking to Elyan, a somewhat sad expression gracing his defined features. Mithian then turned back to Gwaine, her expression now matching Arthur's, "I know that something happened to him after he left. He is somewhat different." The Princess pointed out, hoping Gwaine to give her an answer.

"I do not like to dwell in the King's private affairs My Lady," Replied Gwaine sternly. It was difficult not to like the Princess, as she seemed to possess a kind heart and a caring nature.

"Of course Sir Knight, and I would not expect that of you." She glanced down at her fur lined gloves, adjusting them awkwardly, before meeting Gwaine's eyes once more. "I fear ...that there shall _be_ no wedding."

"You speak boldly, Princess." Gwaine noted, frowning at Mithian.

"In times like these, one's boldness is required." And with that she walked gracefully passed the brave Sir Gwaine, before turning around once more to face him. "Once more, congratulations Sir Gwiane on you success Sir Gwaine." Then she departed quickly out of the throne room.

Arthur watched as the scene played out. After seeing Guinevere in such as state he had almost completely forgotten that Princess Mithian was residing back in Camelot with his uncle. He didn't know what to do, he felt her engagement ring, still heavy in his pocket. It was getting late, and the King decided to retire to his chambers, he walked with a heavy heart and sat on the end of his bed tiredly, still dressed in his full chain mail. Pulling out Guinevere's engagement ring he began to finger it in his hands, staring at the small markings upon it. What should he do? Should he send a patrol out to look for her? As much as he wanted her back desperately, Arthur knew deep down that his pride was stopping him, his pride and his insecurities. Seeing Gwen again had not helped. In fact it just made him feel worse, to see how much she had suffered due to him exiling her. It made him feel disgusted with himself, not only for the fact that she had suffered, but also for the fact that he still did not know whether or not he had forgiven her yet. Should he go through with his marriage to Princess Mithian? Should he force himself to love another?

He sighed wearily and the door to his chambers opened. Merlin entered, carrying his washing basket. Plonking the basket down next to the King's wardrobe, Merlin walked over to stand in front of his King dutifully, his arms folded in front of him.

"Have you not slept, Sire?" Asked Merlin frowning, examining the King, still in his full chainmail. Merlin noticed that he was holding Guinevere's ring. He gulped when Arthur did not move, he just continued to stare at the ring. "Is there anything you need?" He added questioningly.

Arthur sighed, battling his through his emotions, a painful expression resided on his face before he spoke, "How can I love someone who's betrayed me?" Asked Arthur to his manservant, desperately searching for an answer in the warlocks eyes. "It doesn't make any sense. And how can I make myself love another? Tell me that."

Merlin shifted slightly, not wanting to involve himself too deeply once again in the King's private affairs. Arthur knew how he felt about Guinevere's exile, and even more so after setting her free. "If there is nothing else that you require, perhaps I could-"

"I don't know what to _do_." Arthur pleaded solemnly. "I have no _idea_...What to do."

Merlin watched Arthur struggle with his decision and looked sympathetically at Arthur, perched on the edge of his bed.

The King looked at Merlin hard, "What should I do Merlin?"

Merlin sighed and walked over to the window, pulling the chair of Arthur's desk into the table, trying to distract himself slightly by tidying up, "All I know, my Lord, is that no one would sacrifice more for Camelot or you, than Gwen," He said simply. It was true. Gwen had sacrificed so much at such a young age. Merlin grimaced.

"And if that were so?" The King asked, still fingering the ring.

"You must do what your heart tells you, sire," Said Merlin simply, picking up a discarded dirty shirt of Arthur's on the floor and making his way to the door.

"What if I don't know what that is?" Said Arthur suddenly, looking more conflicted than ever.

"I think you do," Said Merlin quietly.

Arthur looked down to the ring and played with it while he thought.

"Is there anything else, Sire?" The warlock asked softly.

"You may go," Said the King, defeated.

Merlin bowed to the King before departing .

"Thank you Merlin,"

* * *

Everything was relatively quiet around Camelot over the next few days. The Knight's training had been postponed due to Arthur allowing the Knights to recover after their exhausting trip. Arthur had not felt like training that week either. The only eventful piece of news to the people of Camelot was when the King had announced to his people that his engagement to the Princess of Nemeth had been suddenly called off. There was to be no wedding.

"I told ya it wouldn't appen," Audrey, the head kitchen chef had said to her staff as she baked away in the kitchens. "I knew it I did, 'ee was too smitten with our Gwen, 'ee was!"

Others were shocked at the news, many of the towns people had been slightly disappointed. Yet another wedding had been called off. The Princess had been regal to them in the King's absence and they were yet another wedding away from getting a Queen. Camelot had not seen a Queen in over twenty years. It lacked a woman's rule.

Some of the towns people watched from afar as the Princess Mithian walked down the staircase into the main square towards her escort. As she descended the staircase she passed Camelot's King without a word.

"Princess," Said Arthur, trying to catch her attention as she walked right passed him.

The Princess stopped, but did not turn around as she forcefully shoves her riding gloves onto her small and dainty hands.

"Forgive me," The King pleads.

The Princess whips around to face him. Her face is calm and beautiful, yet there is underlying edge of disappointment and perhaps anger towards the King. "The time for words is over, Sire,"

Arthur scratches his head awkwardly before replying, "I understand." Said the King "And it is for this reason that I hereby offer you and your descendents all the disputed lands of Gedref,"

Mithian raises her eyebrows, shocked by the King's bold proclamation, "You would give up your ancient claims?"

Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes pleading for forgiveness, "I have no desire for war. Or to grieve you any more than I already have."

Mithian scoffed slightly, as she looked up into Arthur's eyes. "Such an offer cannot be rushed into."

"I've had my scribes draw up an agreement." Arthur pulled out a scroll and handed it to the Princess honourably, who did not accept it. "If you're happy with the terms, I'll sign forthwith."

"And if I refuse?" The Princess challenged. She had fallen for the King in the time that she had been with him. She had grown accustomed to the castle when Arthur had left with Gwaine for two weeks without her. She had even made friends with some of the kitchen staff. She was going to miss Camelot.

Arthur sighed, slightly guilt ridden, "It's all I can offer, I do so most humbly." He bowed his head, looking down to the floor, then looked her in the eye, still holding out he scroll as he awaited her response.

Mithian frowned slightly, folding her arms softly, "Tell me...Who is it that trumps a Princess?"

Arthur's frowned matched hers. "No one," Then he thought for a moment. He thought of his Guinevere, and how dear it felt to hold her once again in that disgusting cell. "And everyone," He added, his voice quivering a little.

Mithian's mood lightened for a moment, curious to know who the mighty King Arthur's heart truly belonged to, she scoffed slightly. "What great family is she from?"

Arthur eyes turned down to the floor as he the corners of his mouth twitched up slightly. "None. She's the daughter of a blacksmith."

Mithian looked slightly taken aback. Quickly recovering she answered, "And for her you would risk you Kingship? Your Kingdom?" She asked curiously. Camelot was a wealthy Kingdom. Would someone really give up that much for a simple blacksmiths daughter?

Arthur sighed, meeting the Princess's kind eyes. "Without her, they're worth nothing to me," He finished quietly.

Mithian considered the King for a moment before glancing down, slightly ashamed of her first impression of the King, thinking that he wanted to marry someone richer than she, and more powerful. But the King was a genuine man. He wanted to marry for love, as did she. "Hm," She thought a moment before addressing the King one last time. "I would give up my own Kingdom, to be so loved." She smiled a small smile at Arthur. "Farewell, Arthur."

Arthur smiled at her. "Farewell, Princess."

As the Princess of Nemeth rode away the King sighed, before walking back up the steps out of the main square. Someone called his name behind him.

"Arthur!"

The King continued walking, not hearing the voice.

"_Sire_!"

Arthur turned around. "Uncle?" He addressed Agravaine politely, and allowed his uncle to continue to walk beside him through the castle. "What can I do for you?"

Agravaine tottered alongside Arthur, struggling to keep up with Arthur's long strides. "Sire, if I may-"

Arthur looked warily at his uncle, he had a feeling what he was going to say and he raised his hand to stop him, coming to a halt as he did so. "Uncle, I fear what you're about to say shall be irrelevant. I have already made my decision."

"_Arthur_, I beg you to reconsider." Pleaded Agravaine. "Nemeth could have strengthened Camelot! And Gedref! You have given that up for a wanton-"

Something inside Arthur snapped. "She is _not_ a wanton!" Spat Arthur angrily. "Listen Uncle, you know I value your council, but this is a matter of the heart. The heart is _not_ a matter to be counselled with!"

Agravaine stepped closer to the King, "And do you rule the Kingdom with you heart Arthur, like a fickle King? Or do you rule it with your head? Like a strong King, like you father was!"

There was an awkward pause before Arthur considered his Uncle for a moment. "I do not want to hear any more of this from you Agravaine." Arthur pulled himself up to his full height, the gleam off of his crown reflecting the sunlight and blinding Agravaine with its reflection. "Is that understood?"

Agravaine cowered slightly under Arthur's full height. "But Sire I-"

"_Is that understood Uncle_?" Arthur said firmly, clenching his fists slightly.

"Yes my Lord."

Arthur nodded, before stalking down the corridor, leaving Agravaine to brood. Agravaine knew Arthur's heart to stay strong to the serving girl. But it would not matter, for soon Arthur would meet his end. Agravaine snarled nastily before making his way to his own chambers. He had recently heard word from Morgana. She was alive and building an army with Helios still, raiding local villagers, forcing them all the more violently to join Morgana's forces. Morgana's army was building stronger by the day and soon, Arthur would face its wrath.

* * *

"Have I been a fool?" Asked the King to his manservant, after staring out of the window, lost in thought.

Merlin looked up, from preparing Arthur's bed ready for retirement. He frowned slightly, indicating with his eyes for Arthur to explain.

"To give up so much for a woman who betrayed me? A woman who I might not even see again?" Arthur asked. He did not know where Guinevere had gone to after she had fled the Tower of Mancipium on horseback.

Merlin smiled slightly. He hoped that Gwen had followed his advice and went to Ealdor to stay with his mother. "You will see her again. You did the right thing, my Lord. As I knew you would." He pulled back the covers of Arthur's bed, ready for the King to sleep in.

Arthur slowly walked over to Merlin, frowning slightly. "And how could you be so sure?" He questioned.

Merlin chuckled. "Because...You're Arthur. You're noble. You're the once and future King." He said, a hint of sarcasm edging his voice jokingly.

"Doomed to be a bachelor." Said Arthur glumly, as he climbed into bed, and Merlin placed a candle next to his bed, chuckling slightly.

"What's the point of loving someone who cannot be found?" He said more to himself than to Merlin. Would he ever find Guinevere again? She could be a long way away from Camelot by now.

Merlin sighed. "Gwen will be found." He reassured the King. "You will find each other."

Arthur frowned at his manservant. "Are you really wise, Merlin, or just a prating fool? I can no longer tell."

Merlin grinned before making his way towards the desk, only to trip over a near by pot, sending him crashing to the floor, landing painfully on the hard flagstones.

Arthur chuckled. "As if there was ever any doubt."


	15. Dear Readers

**Dear readers,**

**Firstly, I would like to thank you all for reading this story, and leaving kind and helpful reviews on it. The previous chapter, was in fact the last of this story.**

**However, I have roughly planned out in my head that this story is the first of a trilogy. You can read the first chapter of the sequel story here:**

**URL to Guinevere and the White Fox:**

**s/11115356/1/Guinevere-and-the-White-Fox**

**The idea for Sir Gwaine and the Liberation of the Slaves of Mercia began to develop in my head after re-watching series four of Merlin. I felt like I wanted a lot more from those last four episodes of the series. After the idea developed I began having new ideas, by receiving inspiration from other stories I had been reading. Therefore I have decided that this story is only the beginning of a three part series.**

**I am not a writer who likes to write brief notes before my chapters, responding to reviews ect, as I believe if a reader gets an impression of what the writer is like, it can distract them from the story, which is why I have decided to wait until the end. So please do not think that I just haven't been reading your reviews as I have! I promise!**

**Thank you so much for reviewing and reading everyone, I didn't realise how many people were still reading Merlin fanfiction and writing it!**

**Kind Regards,**

**Wilube**

**xxx**


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